


The Curious Case of Benjy Bummer

by supersmileys (gingerninja)



Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: Alternate Universe, Ben angst, Ben/Ann brotp, F/M, hints at depression, the Parks dept is threatened!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-11
Updated: 2017-09-15
Packaged: 2018-01-24 08:46:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 38,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1598789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gingerninja/pseuds/supersmileys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alternate Universe - The Pawnee Parks and Recreation Department, headed by Chris Traeger, is about to get a real shake-up from two state auditors. His employee, Ben Wyatt, has seen it coming for a number of years. And he's even resigned to the fact that his place of work might not exist for very much longer. In fact, he's almost pleased about it. </p><p>But when Ron Swanson and Leslie Knope arrive in Pawnee from the state capital, Leslie takes a shine to Pawnee and is willing to take a chance on the small town. Much to Ben's dismay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story I started writing when I thought 'what if Chris and Ben swapped jobs with Ron and Leslie? How would Ron and Leslie work as state auditors while Ben and Chris were the ones fighting for Pawnee?' and it rolled on from there. Hope you guys enjoy!

The Pawnee Parks and Recreation department is in utter chaos before the announcement of the news. Two state government auditors from Indianapolis turning up and presumably changing the entire composition of the city government?  A literal nightmare. Chris Traeger’s worked too damn hard with all the resources at his disposal (admittedly not a lot) to have a series of parks and facilities that are functional and sometimes even thriving.  
  
He stands at the window of his office, his eyes gazing through the glass at all of his wonderful employees. Tom Haverford, with all of his wackadoodle ideas that liven up each and every Monday morning meeting. Donna Meagle with her level head and the way in which she keeps the office running when common sense escapes everyone else. Jerry Gergich and his insatiable commitment to the job he’s had for decades, despite the fact it must seem soul draining when one has worked as a bureaucrat for this long. April Ludgate and her misplaced ability to express to people that she cares. Every morning when she scowls at Chris when he greets her, he knows he’s lucky that she even acknowledges him.  
  
***  
  
His employees are currently engaged in what looks to be pop culture warfare: who deserves to win Best Picture at the Academy Awards. Tom’s in possession of a microphone he found somewhere in City Hall, and he’s charismatically explaining why all his co-worker’s choices are utter baloney (Tom is using more colourful language, but Chris likes to swap it for less inflammatory expressions). The four of them as they snipe and bicker and cry in anguish for truce seem so happy. It’s tugging at Chris’ heartstrings to even consider breaking the bad news to them all. He can’t possibly do it. Thankfully, he has one employee who he can always rely on to deliver the bad news when need be.  
  
“Ben, would you step into my office for a moment please?” Ben Wyatt looks up from his work, and follows Chris back into his office. Once the door is closed, Chris pulls the blinds down on all the windows, casting the two of them into a half-light that reminds Ben of a Humphrey Bogart movie.  
  
“Whoa, Chris, has the pink panther been stolen?” Ben asks sarcastically. An appreciative chuckle breaks through Chris’ worried demeanour.  
  
“The pink panther diamond! I love it,” he replies enthusiastically before his face drops again.  
  
“Unfortunately, no. It’s much worse than that. I have literally the worst task ever to ask of you,” he continues heavily.  
  
“Oh, you want me to tell the rest of the office about the two state auditors coming here to slash our budget?” Ben’s matter-of-fact tone is so casual that Chris is pleasantly surprised.  
  
“You know me almost better than I do! Yes! That would be wonderful. Thank you, Ben. I am literally in eternal gratitude to you.” Ben shrugs.  
  
“It’s no problem.” He turns to re-enter the rest of the office when Chris calls him back.  
  
“Wait! Just, uh, please make sure you’re gentle with them. They’re a fragile bunch, and I don’t want to damage them.” There’s a crash from the other side of the window. The Academy Award debate has escalated to hazardous levels.  
  
“ _ALL THE OTHER MOVIES WILL SUCK AVATAR’S BIG, FAT  BILLION DOLLAR DICK!”_ Tom yells triumphantly.  
  
“No way – The Blind Side has the perfect combination of a heart-warming tale and appeal to race relations without featuring too many black people! The Academy laps that shit up.” Once again, Donna’s astute wisdom pierces through to pinpoint the cold, hard truth that Chris so often admires of her.  
  
“DISTRICT 9. DISTRICT 9. DISTRICT 9. DISTRICT 9.” Ben peeks through the blinds to see that April is now standing on top of her desk, chanting loudly and firmly for her choice of best picture. Her friend, Andy, is standing beside the desk in solidarity. He had been hiding under her desk to escape one of the councilmen he had accidentally insulted.  
  
“Ooh, is that the one with the house and the balloons?” He whispers to her. Normally he has perfect aural recall of films and their entire script, but the time he spent living in the pit on Lot 48 temporarily prevented him from keeping up to date.   
  
“No, it’s the one with all the lizard aliens.” Andy’s eyes light up as comprehension dawns on him.  
  
“Ohhh!!! Oh, I want that one to win,” he grins. Jerry is just sitting at his desk, his hands covering his ears.  
  
“Shh, I don’t want any spoilers, Gale is taping it for me so I don’t miss it when I’m working late tonight.”  
  
“Well, you should have thought of that before I decided to LIVE TWEET THE WHOLE THING!” Donna’s now waving her phone in the air in a sign of defiance to Jerry’s aversion to spoilers.  
  
***  
  
Ben turns back to Chris.  
  
“Gee, I wonder what they’ll do if they shut the Parks department down?” he asks his boss sarcastically. Chris gives him a solemn look.  
  
“I hope you’re joking, Ben. Those people out there have literally given their blood, sweat and tears for this job. Any cuts to the department would ruin their livelihoods, perhaps forever.” Ben’s pretty sure that only Chris has actually given all three to his job, but he doesn’t contradict him. Instead he concedes a nod. He’ll deliver the bad news once again. Ben almost, in a masochistic way, relishes the role of martyr that is constantly bestowed on him when Chris doesn’t want to hurt the feelings of his employees.  
  
“Okay, Chris.” It’s not that Ben _likes_ to be the bad guy, but he’s a realist. In the world of government, he knows that it’s impossible to please everyone. Instead, he assumes that the choices their department makes will annoy most people, and is therefore pleasantly surprised when they work out better than expected. Or does that make him a pessimist? Whichever one it is, the attitude he holds towards his work is necessary for him to get any work done.  
  
Or so he thought before he met Leslie Knope.


	2. Chapter 2

Ben is trying to catch his co-workers’ attention in order to herd them into the conference room where Chris is already waiting. Chris has insisted that he will provide emotional support for Ben as he breaks the bad news. His task is proving difficult, however, as his co-workers are in the middle of what April calls a “dead tree drone massacre”, another name for pelting Jerry with paper planes. Ben’s unaware of what caused this undoubtedly unprovoked attack on Jerry, but he can ask questions later. He clears his throat loudly, but everyone else pays him no heed; paper is still flying across the room at unprecedented levels.    
  
“For God’s sake, I’m the deputy director of this department!” he mutters to himself before preparing himself to make an uncharacteristic move.  
  
“HEY!” Ben shouts, and the room comes to a standstill. Every single person is staring at him in shock.   
  
“You okay, boss?” Tom asks. His arm is frozen in the air, about to launch another strike on poor Jerry.  
  
“EVERYBODY IN THE CONFERENCE ROOM NOW!” Ben no longer needs to shout, but he figures that while he has everyone’s attention he may as well keep it up. Plus, he’s not used to shouting, and he can’t quite work out how to lower his voice back to a normal volume. Donna, Tom, April and Jerry all scarper into the conference room, where Chris is waiting, accompanied by another person.  
  
“Andy, what are you doing here?” Ben asks as he closes the door behind him. He’s relieved that his voice sounds more normal and less likely to deafen everyone.   
  
“I heard you say that you wanted everyone in the conference room straight away, so I got here as quick as I could.” Andy works as both a shoe-shiner and in the gift shop of City Hall. Both of his places of work are on the other side of City Hall, and his presence makes Ben perplexed.  
  
“You heard me from all the way across City Hall? How did you get here so – okay, never mind.” Ben has learned that it’s better not to question the mystery of Andy Dwyer. Plus, he has bigger issues to attend to.   
  
“Okay, everyone, the reason why we’re having this meeting today is that we have to deliver some bad news.” Ben pauses to gauge the reactions of his co-workers. Jerry is leaning forward attentively, looking rather worried. There’s evidence of sweat on his brow, and Ben knows that he’s worried about the livelihood of his wife and daughters. The way he’s clutching his hands together tightly is nearly cutting off his own circulation to his fingers.   
  
Donna is also looking at her boss expectantly, but it’s out of impatience. She’s leaning back in her chair, arms folded across her chest, but the expression on her face is one that Ben knows to translate as ‘spit it out, Wyatt.’   
  
April already isn’t listening. She’s doodling a rather extensive picture that is actually a remarkable likeness to Ben. And the Ben in the picture is – oh. The Ben in the picture is having his eyes pecked out by crows. Charming.   
  
Tom is watching Ben, but his phone is in his hand and his hand is moving frantically as it composes a text. The way in which Tom doesn’t need to even glance at his phone has Ben impressed.   
  
Andy Dwyer has left the room. Instead, Bert Macklin is standing right next to Ben, mirroring his stance with both hands resting on the table.   
  
“Andy, what are you doing?” ‘Bert’ pulls his sunglasses off his eyes dramatically.  
  
“Bad news calls for bad cop. Bert Macklin, FBI, reporting for duty.” April gives her boyfriend a thumbs up without even looking up from her picture.   
  
“I really don’t think that will be necessary. This is too low-brow for the FBI,” The way in which Ben acknowledges Bert’s existence has moved past being ironic and is now a normal part of life working in the Parks department.   
  
“Point taken. Your move, boss.” Technically speaking, Ben isn’t Andy’s boss, but he doesn’t press the matter as Andy sits back down. Chris, who is sitting behind Ben, isn’t bothered by the distraction. He just seems pleased to experience every single piece of life and joy that his employees bring into their daily lives as well as the department.   
  
“Okay. So, the bad news is that Pawnee is being subject to a city-wide audit from state employees. They’ll be looking into the city’s expenses to see where they can make as many cuts as possible. That unfortunately means that they may be cutting jobs. So, in the case where that _might_ happen, I want you all to be prepared for the possibility that not all of us will survive the cull.”  
  
“They’re going to kill us?!” Andy leaps up and bolts from the room. Everyone else seems unfazed.   
  
“Is that it?” Donna asks. Ben turns to Chris, confused. He had been expecting more panic. Chris smiles at him encouragingly. Ben turns back to Donna.  
  
“Uh, yeah. Aren’t you guys a little more concerned?”  
  
“There’s so much wastage and problems to get through that by the time they get to the Parks department they’ll be too tired to bother fighting with us, and they’ll just want to go home to Indianapolis.”  Is Donna right? Will that end up being the fate of the faceless, nameless auditors? Ben has kind of been hoping that the department would get all riled up and ready to fight for survival. What Donna is suggesting is far less anti-climatic, and the thought is deflating. He’s been hoping that their outrage would help fuel his own.  
  
If Ben’s being completely honest with himself, he _wants_ a shake-up. Chris is a great leader, but Ben has been feeling like he fails as a deputy director. He’s a fantastic manager of the city’s existing parks, but all the new projects come from Chris, or from Donna, Tom or even April. He feels like he brings nothing fresh to the department. Sometimes he feels like he just doesn’t _fit._  


* * *

  
  
“Oh come on, Ben, you’re a great deputy director.” Ann Perkins says monotonously as she slowly works away at her fruit salad. She’s Ben’s lunch buddy – the pair of them met during a particularly busy morning at JJ’s Diner when they were seated together due to the lack of tables. It started happening several times, to the point where if one of them got to the diner when it wasn’t busy, the other would come and join them out of habit.   
  
During the first few occasions, the pair of them would sit at the same table and eat their meal, not talking to each other. But the first time that Ann sat down across from Ben when there were plenty of free tables in the restaurant, Ben thought it prudent to introduce himself. They’re now good friends.   
  
“Wow, you sound so sincere,” Ben replies, smiling from behind his cup of coffee.   
  
“Ben, you _know_ you’re great at your job. You set such high standards for yourself, and you’re always passing those standards with flying colours.” Their friendship is a strange one. They only see each other at lunch time (admittedly, that’s nearly every week day), and sometimes Ann wonders if they’d have met in any other circumstances whether they’d be friends. Or maybe it’s because they’re actually friends without any expectation of anything more intimate resulting from it. It’s rare for Ann to have a male friend like that. She’s on good terms with her ex-boyfriend Andy, but that’s not the same.   
  
“Any luck with Creeper McStalkerson getting barred from the hospital?” Ben swiftly changes the subject; talking about work for too long bums him out. Ann pretends to frown at him, as she knows what he’s doing – but she allows the change in subject.  
  
“No, they think it might be sleepwalking so until they prove otherwise, he’s here to stay. But I do have a date tonight, so you might be getting a call from the police for being the last person to know my whereabouts if I disappear.”  
  
“Oh, good, because my plans were to spend the night alone watching Star Wars so I’ll have a wonderful alibi,” Ben remarks. Ann can’t tell whether he sounds slightly resigned, or whether he’s being matter-of-fact like he often is. She feels bad for him. He’s a smart guy, dedicated and has his head firmly screwed on. She often wonders why he doesn’t have a girlfriend. Then again, she only has to look back to her relationship with Andy to prove that those qualities that Ben has isn’t always what girls look for in a guy. The two of them don’t often talk about that sort of thing; it’s relatively new territory despite the fact that they’ve been friends for several months now.  
  
“Aww, you’re not seeing anyone at the moment?” Ben shrugs a little dejectedly.   
  
“My wives back in Utah wouldn’t be so pleased about it,” he deadpans. Ann can’t help but smile.   
  
“You know, for all you complain about your sarcastic co-workers, you’re pretty darn sarcastic yourself,” she points out. Ben sighs and leans forward, burying his face in his hands.  
  
“Sorry, when I’m tired I get sarcastic. Normally when I have more energy I prefer to make stupid puns that everyone thinks is lame.” Is he being serious? He suddenly snaps his head up in an epiphany.  
  
“I finally understand stand-up comedians now,” he marvels, his eyes wide. His eyes are so wide that Ann finally notices how red they are – it’s the crazed look of a man who has had very little sleep. Ann stands up and slides into the booth next to Ben. Without pausing, she pulls a torch out of her purse and shines it into Ben’s eyes.   
  
“Hey! What are you doing?!” Ben yelps, flinching away from the light. Ann pulls his face back towards hers and continues examining his eyes closely.   
  
“You are showing classic signs of sleep deprivation. I’m going to write you a note getting you out of work tomorrow. You should relax and not worry about work for once. It’ll do you some good.”   
  
“No, please don’t do that,” Ben moans, “Work’s the only important thing in my life right now.” Ann drops her hands from Ben’s face, unimpressed.  
  
“Which is it, Wyatt? You hate your job, or it’s the only thing you’ve got going for you?” She sounds offended. Rightly so, as she’s been under the impression that their friendship was actually meaningful. The question is an unusually difficult one to answer. Ben Wyatt is normally the guy with all the answers, but for once, he’s stumped. Does he really hate his job?   
  
“You _are_ important to me, I promise,” Ben assures her. That part of the question he can answer.  Ann doesn’t know it, but on the days where he feels he’s utterly worthless, he just has to think about lunch and he feels a bit of hope. Chris is a great friend to him as well, but there’s always that employer-employee relationship that hinders that. Plus, it’s nice to have friends that don’t constantly remind him about the parks and the permits and all the other things that sap at his energy.   
  
“Do I need to cancel my date?” Ann asks gently. Ben shakes his head wildly; the last thing he needs is to bring his friend down into his downward spiral.   
  
“No, no, I’m fine. You have fun on your date! It’ll be great!” He’s forcing enthusiasm, but it’s easier than Ann getting all worried about him. She watches him closely for a few seconds before she relents. Reaching into her purse again, she pulls out a piece of paper and a pen, scribbling a note on it and holds it out to him.   
  
“Okay. But you must _promise_ me that you’ll take this note and take the day off tomorrow. Can you do that?” Oh, how Ben wants to tell her ‘no’; that at least going to work keeps his mind off how his life has no real purpose. But he owes it to Ann to at least give it a chance.  Ben takes the piece of paper that Ann is holding out to him.   
  
“Thank you,” he says sincerely, and by the way Ann smiles at him, it’s clear she knows that he’s not just thanking her for the note.  
  
“You look after yourself, okay?” Ben can’t make any promises, but he’ll certainly try.   


* * *

  
  
It’s harder than Ben thought. He’s been home for less than an hour, and already the night stretches on before him into infinity. He tries to convince himself that his day off tomorrow is just like a weekend, but that would be lying. Even on his weekends he’s always busy doing paperwork, sometimes even in the office. He’s the man that will double and triple check everything before it gets sent out to other departments and bodies, no matter what time of day. He's focused on work 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. His dreams are littered with problems and possible solutions. Not even his unconscious mind can escape the work he does.   
  
He lives for his job, he really does. But the changes that the state auditors will bring are something that Ben perhaps has too much hope for. Any excuse for him to uproot, to try something new, to find what he really wants to do is very welcome. Ben doesn’t mind the prospect of losing his job if it means that he’s given a reason and motivation to start doing something different. As it is, he’s currently sitting in his silent living room, staring at the wall. The darkness of the night slowly engulfs him, but his thoughts are so dark that he barely notices the difference.   
  
  
As Ben finally climbs into his bed that night, just before midnight, he doesn’t anticipate that the person he needs the most will be banging on his door in less than seven hours time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I was writing this chapter, I realised how much I enjoy Ben and Ann being friends. I think I'll keep them close.


	3. Chapter 3

The world is crashing down on him. Literally. Ben’s surrounded by things falling off shelves, windows breaking, the most horrific low rumbling that he’s ever heard. An earthquake? The only other earthquake he’s experienced was a very minor one when he was visiting friends in California. This is more intense. Glass shatters as it hits the ground, and on several occasions very narrowly misses Ben’s body as he shuffles through the room to the door. Surprisingly, the ground’s not shaking,  but still the low rumbling sound is almost louder than his thoughts, and something about the sound has all of Ben’s hair standing on end. Perhaps it’s a tornado? That would explain the fierce crashing sound that’s coming from somewhere else inside the house. He peeks out into the hallway, and a black figure is fast approaching him, as the banging gets louder and louder until -  
  
“Fuck.” Ben’s yanked from his nightmare by a banging at the front door. So that part IS real. He’s shaking slightly from the intensity and vividness of the dream he just had, but whoever’s at the door sounds rather urgent. It’s not the first time that the black figure has appeared in his dreams, although the frequency of its appearance has increased lately, which is concerning.   
  
He stumbles out of bed, his eyes still blurry from the slumber he’s been so unceremoniously awoken from. It’s not until he opens the door to a beaming blonde stranger that he realises he’s only in a t-shirt and his boxers.   
  
“Ben Wyatt!” The woman exclaims, and her eyes glance down to his lack of pants.  
  
“Oh, my.” She’s not alone, either. Standing behind her is a surly looking man with a solid moustache, and his boss Chris. Ben immediately slams the door shut. He doesn’t know what’s going on, but he is wishing that he was back in his dream with the world imploding and the mysterious black figure. In that dream, there’s no humiliation. Only terror.   
  
The door knocks again. Why are they still here? Didn’t they take the hint by him slamming the door in their face?  
  
“If you need to put some pants on, we can wait,” The woman calls from the other side of the door.  
  
“ _What are you doing here, it’s seven in the morning_!” Ben calls back irritably. He’s particularly pissed off with Chris, because Ben personally handed Ann’s note to him and told him that he’d be taking a sick day.  
  
“Ben, we’re sorry to disturb you, but these kind people arrived this morning and when I told them that you were off on a sick day, they wanted to come round here straight away to make sure that you were okay.” There’s a grunt of dissent from the other side of the door, which Ben assumes is the man with the moustache.   
  
“ARE YOU CONTAGIOUS? DO YOU HAVE PANTS ON YET?” The woman shouts from outside, which is mildly infuriating, as it’s likely to get Ben into trouble with his neighbours. Ben is already in trouble often enough with people in the community for some of the decisions that the Parks department makes. Annoying guests at inane hours, however, is suicide. The homeowner’s association that Ben is a part of sometimes verges on the totalitarian side when it comes to following the rules.   
  
Oh, Christ. He’s going to have to let them in. As he quickly finds more clothes to put on and make himself presentable, he realises that he’s likely to break his promise to Ann. _And I’ve only just woken up._ With a sigh, he opens the door a second time to his guests.  
  
“Please, come in.” Chris and the woman simply beam at him as they enter ( _is she another Chris?!_ ), but the moustached man frowns at him suspiciously. At least someone understands Ben’s sarcasm in his welcome.   
  
“Ben, these two wonderful people are Leslie Knope and Ron Swanson, our two state auditors,” Chris introduces. Ben nods politely, and gestures to his living room.  
  
“Shall I make coffee?” Chris pipes up. Leslie politely declines, Ben nods frantically, and Ron simply mutters something about “bean juice” and “commies and poets”. Leslie and Ron are seated on the couch across from Ben. Both are impeccably dressed; Tom would be proud of their fashion sense. Yet somehow, Ben gets the vibe that the expensive-looking suit that Ron is wearing is not his first preference. Ron’s mouth is invisible underneath his bushy moustache and his hard gaze, and he has no problem with staring Ben down without blinking.  
  
 Leslie’s much easier on the eye. Her unbroken smile is at least comforting compared to Ron’s expression. Once seated, she pulls out a briefcase and from it, two binders with the words _PAWNEE_ _PARKS AND RECREATION_ emblazoned on top. She hands one of them to Ben.   
  
“This binder that we have allocated for the Parks and Recreation department is empty right now, but we plan to fill it up with all the information about the department. There’s one for you and Chris, and one for myself and Ron, and the four of us will be working together to come to solutions in the context of the city-wide budget.” It’s a little too early for Ben to be talking business, and his attention is instead drawn to the logo on the back of the binder.   
  
“Wait, what’s this?”   
  
“Oh, that’s the name of the accounting firm we work for. We’re on retainer, but most of the time our work is all for the private sector,” Leslie explains. She’s still so _enthusiastic._ Ben is sure he’s never seen a more enthusiastic accountant in his entire life.   
  
“Yes, we’re largely private citizens, not government employees,” Ron adds firmly. Ben understands the subtext of Ron’s words – government employees are abhorrent, and therefore so is Ben.   
  
“Well, if you’re on retainer, doesn’t that technically mean you’re always employed by the government?” _Technically._ The word that rolls off Ben’s tongue with such ease. Part of the reason why he’s so efficient at his civil servant job is because he can see straight through bullshit and get right to the facts of a matter. He has won many an argument with that word. He’s often being told that he should be a lawyer with that attention to detail, but he wrinkles his nose at the thought every single time.   
  
Leslie lets out a delighted laugh. “Ron, he’s right! We ARE government employees.” Ron’s expression doesn’t change, but Leslie stops laughing when she notices his face. Obviously she spots a warning sign, because she mutters an “uh-oh”. That sounds dangerous. Surely Ron can’t be that offended by the implication that he works for the government? As the hair on Ben’s neck stands up, he realises that he doesn’t want the answer to that question. Thankfully, Chris walks in with coffee, effectively breaking the ice.  
  
“So, as guests to our wonderful town of Pawnee, how can Ben and I make your first day literally the best day of your life?” Chris asks of the auditors.   
  
“Me? I told you I was taking a sick day today,” Ben’s trying to telepathically communicate how much he _really doesn’t want to spend the day with these people who are going to wreck their system._ His ‘telepathy’ is basically the use of his eyebrows to convey subtext, but on this morning Chris is completely oblivious. __  
  
“What’s wrong with you?” Ron asks bluntly. Now there’s a man who can convey subtext. Ron’s asking about Ben’s ailments, but Ben also knows that Ron also means about his personality in general. Or perhaps he’s just being paranoid.  
  
“Uh, I…allergies.” It’s a vague enough answer that it hopefully won’t provoke too many questions.   
  
“Is that why your eyes were so red and puffy last Friday evening when I left work?” Chris asks. On that occasion, Ben had actually been crying because he’d been rewatching the last episodes of Dollhouse, but Chris doesn’t need to know that.  
  
“Yeah. My doctor told me it’s best that I avoid anything that might set them off.” Ben mentally crosses his fingers that his boss will swallow his lie. For once he’s grateful that he’s the one who handles the personnel files in the office, or else his lie would fall through immediately.   
  
“But you seem fine! We were hoping that the two of you could show us all the unique things your city has to offer,” Leslie says hopefully. Ben’s finding the idea of refusing her somehow far more difficult than refusing Chris.   
  
“We won’t make it stressful!” she adds. “We’ll make sure to stop for anti-histamines, adrenaline, anything you need the minute you feel woozy.”  
  
“Ooh! I have the perfect vitamin supplement you can take that will alleviate symptoms!” Chris pipes up.   
  
“Perfect!” Leslie exclaims. “Ben, you’ll be good to go in no time!”  
  
“Yes, you’re not getting out of this that easily,” Ron says, and for the first time that morning Ben realises that the two of them have something in common. And he’s not exactly in a position to explain the full extent of his stress problems to people he barely knows (and Chris), so he concedes a defeated nod.   
  
“Let the day of fun begin!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> State auditors wanting to get straight down to business? Of course not! Not when one of those auditors is Leslie Knope.


	4. Chapter 4

Some day of fun. It’s 8am, and Ben Wyatt is standing in the foyer of City Hall on his supposed day off. Leslie had _insisted_ that before any other activity could begin that she had to see the “heart of the city”. Heart? Perhaps a diseased, arrhythmic one that sometimes just forgets to work. But Ben forces himself to remember that Ron and Leslie need to have a positive view of the city, so that they are more likely to give the Parks Department what they need.  
  
They’re not off to a good start.  
  
“What a wonderful mural! Is this about the tenacity of Pawnee citizens to overcome their differences and come together in times of hardship?” Ben winces. Leslie’s asking about ‘Wedding at Turbill Mansion’, and her interpretation of the mural is far too optimistic. Chris looks as though he’s desperate to lie to Leslie and put the most positive spin on the situation as possible.  
  
“Leslie, what a wonderful way to look at it! That is literally the exact sort of image we want to portray Pawnee as for the future, and I am honoured that you already consider Pawnee in such a way…” His tone is a familiar one – he’s left his sentence hanging. It’s the cue for Ben to step in and take over.  
  
“But unfortunately, almost everyone featured was killed after the events portrayed in the mural,” Ben finishes. Ron lets out an appreciative chuckle, and Leslie looks a little taken aback.  
  
“This is ‘Wedding at Turnbill Mansion’?” Wait, she _knows_ about the events of the wedding? Her shocked blue eyes are suddenly cloudy with comprehension as the weight of the history sinks in. It’s clear that she’s done her homework about this town, as a large majority of even Pawnee’s citizens wouldn’t be able to explain the mural.  
  
“Yes, I’m afraid that is the infamous ‘Wedding’ mural. It’s a tragic but important part of our history,” Chris admits. Ben’s glad that Chris has figured that it would be bad to completely lie about Pawnee and give the auditors a false impression of the city they’re about to tear to shreds. Especially when they seem to know all the ins and outs of Pawnee before even being told about them.  
  
Leslie’s previously sunny expression is now so solemn that Ben wants to take her mind off the mural that she’s gazing at so sadly. She reminds Ben of a puppy that someone has abandoned. Her lip is jutting out slightly in a little pout, and her mouth is distinctly turned downwards.  
  
“I’d read about what happened, and I’d been hoping that it was just a myth. What’s the next one?” Oh God. The next mural is aptly named ‘Eating the Reverend’ and that’s bound to prompt some awkward and uncomfortable questions. It’s Ron and Leslie’s first day in Pawnee, and shoving them head-first into one of the darkest parts of Pawnee’s history isn’t the best idea.  
  
If Leslie happens to ask about it before she sees the mural itself, Ben’s prepared with a spiel about how it’s merely a gruesome metaphor for Pawnee’s obesity epidemic. The mural, despite being accessible to any member of the public who visits City Hall, is carefully withheld from all brochures and websites talking about Pawnee. There’s a secret faction of City Hall whose sole job is to keep quiet certain parts of Pawnee’s history.  
  
“You know what, why don’t we go and visit the Parks and Recreation department instead?” Chris improvises wildly, changing the subject. “Everyone’s dying to meet you.” That’s a bit of a stretch, but anything is better than the graphic and incriminating murals that plaster the walls of City Hall. The four of them turn around, but not before Ron squints suspiciously at the walls beyond ‘Wedding at Turnbill Mansion’ and whispers something to Leslie. Ben glances sideways at the two of them as they walk down the hallway. His concerns about the mural are short-lived, however, when they arrive at the Parks department. The blinds over the windows to the department are closed, which is highly unusual. What’s more, Ben can hear voices that he is certain do not belong to any of his co-workers within the department. Chris’ face is wearing the same expression of alarm that Ben is feeling. Something untoward is occurring inside the office.  
  
“Oh, no,” Chris mutters as he reaches out and touches the door handle as if he’s in a house on fire and he’s checking the temperature. His hand grips the door handle, but he makes no move to actually open the door. In that moment, Ben realises that there weren’t actually blinds on the front doors the day before. Some sneaky person (people?) has certainly made an effort to conceal their identity.  
  
“Come on, son, we don’t have all day. Are you going to show us your department, or shall we leave to go do something productive?” Ron presses irritably. Chris starts explaining the situation in German Sign Language so as not to alert the people inside of their presence.   
  
“Ooh, charades? I’m great at this game! Okay…four? Is that a hut?...At least put your whole body into the charades, am I right Ben?” Leslie nudges Ben playfully with her elbow. Chris hushes her urgently, and continues to sign frantically. If Ben were in a better mood, he would gladly translate for Leslie and Ron, but he’s not feeling particularly eager to move things along. Something about the unusual situation makes Ben sense that he’s not going to enjoy whatever they will encounter in the office.  
  
Ron’s looking rather annoyed with Chris’ display (already Ben’s beginning to notice the slightest nuances of Ron’s expressions), and he shakes his head impatiently. Ben suspects that if the day continues on in this fashion, they’re not all going to make it out alive. After another 30 seconds of fruitless signing, Chris finally gives in to spoken language.   
  
“There are strangers in the office who have deliberately hidden their identity from us, and it could be a security risk,” Chris hisses. Leslie gasps and turns to Ron, who doesn’t share her shock. Ben bites back the suggestion to summon Bert Macklin to investigate. It’s quickly apparent that Bert Macklin isn’t required, however, when Ron marches straight into the office with immense authority.  
  
“Oh, look, it’s people. Sitting at desks. How dangerous,” Ron says sarcastically, waving a hand round the office. The people who are in the office aren’t as innocuous as Ron realises, however. Not a single one of the six people already present belong to the Parks department. As Leslie follows Ron into the office, she doesn’t notice how Ben and Chris are rooted to the spot, somewhat paralyzed with discomfort. Neither of them wish to deal with who’s inside the office.  
  
But as it’s Chris’ job as department head to act as a representative of their office and his staff, he thaws out and enters the office, a big smile on his face.  
  
“Well, what do you know, it looks like the entire Events department is here to greet us this morning!”  
  
Events. If childish snobbery was to take form of a department, it would be the Events Department. Ben loathes them with a passion for a number of reasons. For starters, they’re experts at getting the higher-ups to divert Parks funding for their own ventures. They used to be part of the Parks department, but they broke off a couple of years ago after some controversial issues arose amongst the staff. Not to mention, they’re downright mean.  
  
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Christopher Robin and his sidekick, Benjy Bummer.” The head of the Events department (although they prefer to be known as the ‘Events Team’), Kristen Holt, slips off April’s desk and glides across the floor towards them. Kristen is essentially the antithesis to Chris – she’s beautiful and extremely intelligent, but innately evil. Or at least, she certainly acts that way around the staff of the Parks department.  
  
“Kristen Holt, such a pleasure it is to see you this morning.” Even Chris is having difficulty masking his contempt for Kristen. Of course, the contempt is only recognizable to those like Ben who are trained to spot it. For all Ron and Leslie are aware, Chris is being extremely polite and courteous.  
  
“Chris, it’s highly impolite of you not to introduce your guests to us,” Kristen replies sweetly, smiling broadly at Leslie and Ron. Ben’s suspiciously eyeing Curtis Vincent, second in command. Curtis has a leer on his face that could be mistaken for a friendly smile. But the way he sinisterly sits, twirling ever so slowly in Ben’s chair is an unmistakeable sign that it’s meant to be a threatening gesture.  
  
“Of course, my sincere apologies. Ron, Leslie, this is Kristen Holt, head of Pawnee’s Events department. And these are the other members: Curtis, Dominic, Abbey, Julie and Todd.”  
  
“Most of your names are so similar to the names of the Parks department, was that deliberate?” Leslie asks enthusiastically. Chris and Kristen look to each other and both recoil slightly.  
  
“No, that’s a strange coincidence. But the two teams are very similar in a number of different ways. The Events Team and the Parks and Recreation department have collaborated on many projects together in the past. To help your transition into Pawnee, we’ve put on a breakfast for the two of you in a long line of exciting plans for the day to introduce you to our town. Please, leave it all to us,” Kristen replies smoothly, giving another disgusted glance in Ben’s direction.  
  
Ben knows exactly what she’s doing. The Events Team are trying to schmooze Leslie and Ron in the hopes that their budget won’t be slashed. The Parks department is often unfairly compared to Events, and Parks rarely comes out on top. He suddenly feels very protective of Ron and Leslie, despite the fact he was plotting ways to send them back to Indianapolis not an hour before. But he will not lose them to Events.  
  
“Actually, we already had some plans for Mr Swanson and Ms Knope lined up, Kristen. You can meet up with them once they begin the audit.”  
  
“Oh, but Mr Wyatt, we already have the banquet prepared. It would be such a terrible waste if they weren’t to attend, especially if it’s in their honour. You don’t want to waste time and resources, do you, Benjy?” Oh, she’s good. The word ‘banquet’ has piqued Ron’s interest, and finally he actually appears to be looking forward to something.  
  
“A banquet? What an excellent idea. Leslie, are you up for it?” Ron asks of his co-worker. For the first time that morning, Leslie looks slightly apprehensive. She glances from Ben to Chris before answering Ron.  
  
“Well, don’t you think we should go with what we originally planned with Chris and Ben? It seems unfair to cancel their plans in favour of these new plans.” Ben can’t help but smile at Leslie. She might end up being sympathetic to the plight of the Parks department. She truly seems like a good, honest person in spite of her profession.   
  
“Ms Knope, I can assure you that Chris will be far more productive and resourceful if he lets me take over the reins and show you the town. Our team are experts, and we’re far better suited to ensuring that you receive a full, informative orientation.” Well, Ron and Leslie can hardly say no to that. They accept Kristen’s offer, and the Events Team all stand up, ready to launch into full swing. It pains Ben slightly that the whole of Events are up and ready to go, when he knows that his own co-workers will slowly straggle in still half asleep later on in the morning.  
  
“Ben’s on a personal day, so he’ll go with you,” Chris says firmly to Kristen. Curtis lets out a snort, but no-one protests. That indicates that they don’t see him as a threat, which automatically offends Ben. Chris is once again using German Sign Language to Ben, instructing Ben on what he is to do. It’s a plan to make the Parks department look far better than Kristen’s team.  
  
Truthfully, Chris is more suited to the job, but they cannot appear wasteful to the auditors, and Ben will earn extra brownie points for attending on his day off. Plus, despite Ben’s ambivalence towards his job, the Events Team inspires a spark of competition in him. He’s not going to leave the Parks department until he’s sure that Events won’t swoop in and devour the remains.  
  
“We’re going to have such a great time!” Leslie says to Ben. He’s not so sure about that. But what he is sure about is that he’s going to have plenty to tell Ann at lunch. Ann’ll be upset to see that he directly violated her instruction, but she’ll be pleased to hear that he’s prepared to fight for the approval of Leslie and Ron for the sake of his department. The trick will be doing so without seeming like he’s sucking up to them.  
  
When Kristen leads them out into the hallway, asking Ron “Did they show you the mural ‘Eating the Reverend’?” Ben knows for certain that this is war. He’s too busy focussing on his battle strategy to notice Leslie whisper to Ron.    
  
“ _I’m not sure what you’re thinking, but I like these guys. This town ain’t gonna be like the others.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I created the Events Team as a way of providing a third source of conflict between Leslie and Ron, and the Parks department. There's nothing like heightened stakes! And hopefully they'll provide conflicts for everyone in more than just professional ways...


	5. Chapter 5

It only takes a voice calling out “hey, it’s Benjy Bummer!”  in jest as the group departs City Hall for Ben to take all his thoughts back. He doesn’t want to fight the Events department for the acceptance of Leslie and Ron. They can take it. Anything to stop the shame. Ben spins around defensively, trying to discern the source of the voice. The nickname was coined by an unnamed talk show host (read: Joan Callamezzo, but Ben baulks at the mere thought of her) who once had Ben on their show and completely derailed and humiliated him when he was only 18 years old. Citizens of Pawnee never seem to remember any of the good things that Ben has done for the town, and yet they cannot seem to forget a nickname that was invented more than a decade ago. The reason why Ben even appeared on the show in the first place has been swallowed by the depths of time, but anything remotely childish and hurtful tends to stick around in this town. Like the Events department.

 

“Wow, is that a sanctioned nickname, Ben?” Leslie asks as they walk out to the limo that is waiting for them all (of course they hired a fucking limo). Ben’s been walking a few steps behind the auditors, and he stops in his tracks when Curtis and Kristen start sniggering to each other. But before he can assure Leslie that it is NOT his preferred nickname, Kristen answers first. 

 

“People call him Benjy Bummer because he kills people’s fun. He was the one who shut down the town’s annual Snowman Festival.” What Kristen doesn’t explain, however, is that the reason why Ben stopped the festival was because when he first started at the Parks and Recreation department, the Summer Snowman Festival was because the town was one step from becoming broke as a result – due to the fact that the event was held in the summer, Pawnee had to import snow and spend exorbitant amounts of money to stop the snow from melting. To Ben, it was a no-brainer, but to the rest of the town it was like a personal attack on their dignity, and the local media started a smear campaign against him, which turned ugly.

 

“Oh, no, what happened?” By God, Leslie is so interested to know the ins and outs of the town. Why? Why does she sound so distraught about the Summer Snowman Festival? It wasn’t even that good! She seems genuinely anguished that they had to end the festival. Her hand is resting on the door of the limo, waiting for an answer. Everyone is waiting for her to open the door.

 

“It’s a long story,” Ben answers in a fatigued tone, eager to push the morning along. Plus, he hopes that his weariness over the story will discourage Leslie from pressing the matter further. Ron clears his throat impatiently and she realises that she is holding the party up.

 

As she climbs in, she asks Ben sincerely “Will you tell us what happened?” Ben so desperately wants to refuse, as the fallout from his decision hurt him deeply (though he won’t admit it to anybody). However, if he doesn’t tell the story himself, the Events department will fill in the blanks incorrectly and maliciously.

 

“I – no. It’s too complicated for a short limousine ride. I’ll tell you when I’m back at the office, with all my charts and binders.” It’s a slight stab at the two auditors, but Leslie accepts this and doesn’t press any further.

 

“Benjy Bummer strikes again,” Kristen says under her breath in a sing-song voice, and Ben hates the way that Leslie smiles in amusement at the nickname. If Ron and Leslie start calling him Benjy Bummer as well, he’s going to request a transfer to somewhere where no-one knows his name. Alaska sounds like a promising location.

 

In the limousine, Ben is wedged uncomfortably between Todd and Ron. Todd is on his cell phone, busy working on various status updates, but Ron is staring disapprovingly at Ben for being too close. There’s little Ben can do in the situation, least of all hold Ron’s gaze, so he awkwardly focuses on the ground at Kristen’s feet and starts imagining Chris’ voice in his head so he doesn’t start planning an inevitably awkward confrontation where he stands up to her. Except Chris’ voice in Ben’s head is in the midst of encouraging Ben to face his fears in a healthy way, so Ben ignores the voice and starts counting down the minutes until he can escape the madness.

 

Leslie aids in Ben blocking out Chris’ voice by putting her own voice to good use. She’s deep in the middle of an enthusiastic and complicated summary of break-even analyses. After a cursory glance around the limo, Ben suspects that he’s actually the only person who looks remotely interested in what she’s saying. Ron has his eyes closed and a hint of a smile under his moustache, but that’s more likely because of the food that is waiting for them all at their destination.

 

A phone ringing breaks Leslie’s explanation. She pulls the ringing phone from her pocket to answer it.

 

“Leslie Knope! Oh, hi Mark,” she says with a smile, and immediately lowers her voice to continue her conversation. This pulls Ron from his reverie. He frowns as he watches Leslie have her conversation with this Mark person. Ron certainly appears to be disapproving of Mark, because when Leslie finishes her conversation with a beaming “Bye! I love you,” she notices Ron’s expression and pointedly averts his gaze as she hangs up. Thankfully for her, the limo pulls to a stop, and everybody clambers out.

 

Ben hasn’t been paying attention to the journey the driver was taking, but if his estimates are correct, they should be at Maplewood Park – the worst possible place to take visitors to the town. As Tom Haverford once described it: “Maplewood Park: the oozing sore from the festering turd of the butthole of-” (“Thank you, Tom, you’ve painted a wonderfully visceral image of Maplewood Park,” Chris had interrupted him). But he’s wrong. They’re not at Maplewood Park at all. It’s even worse than Ben feared.

 

They’re outside Pawnee Public Library.

 

The damage that can be done here is far greater than Ron and Leslie seeing Maplewood Park without warning. Ben is trying to keep his panic muted, however. The staff of Pawnee Public Library can smell fear. Years and years of sniffing out illicit snacks that teenagers have brought in have meant that their olfactory senses rival those of Sabretooth’s.

 

Perhaps Ben can make a run for it? He scans his surroundings before giving up that idea almost immediately. He’s hopelessly unfit (unlike the superhuman librarians) and escaping would prove to everyone that he’s outnumbered and afraid. Because when it really comes down to it, dark figures in dreams and the stigma of a town’s hate do not scare Ben Wyatt. What truly scares him are things like firefighters, being late, the thought of George R R Martin dying before finishing his series and Jar Jar Binks. Y’know, the usual. And of course, librarians.

 

The eleven librarians at Pawnee are probably the scariest people in America. Ben would say that they are the scariest people in the world, but he knows such an evaluation would be premature. He has yet to meet any dictators, for example.

 

“What a beautiful building!” Leslie is in awe ( _what is with this woman? Do they not have old buildings in Indianapolis_?!). Ben supposes that she’s right to be impressed. If it weren’t for the beauty of the library building, no-one would dare enter. It masks the evil that lurks inside. Plus, the fact that a decent chunk of the Parks funding goes towards the library should mean that they can spend it on elaborate pillars and archways and coffee machines. But Ben’s not bitter. Not at all.

 

He is more alert than usual, however. In addition to the Events team, he now has to watch out for the librarians. A battle on two fronts. Jesus. He could do with a little assistance from his co-workers; perhaps it’s already time to rally up the troops. As he pulls out his phone as they all climb out of the limo and sees Tammy Traeger standing on the steps at the front entrance, he fears it may already be too late.

* * *

  
  


“ _They see me rollin’, they hatin’, they try to catch me ridin’ dirty…”_ Every single day Tom Haverford wishes he was Chamillionaire. No, scratch that. He’s _Tom Haverford._ Although he sometimes he wishes he emulates Chamillionaire’s pure swag, he’s got a pretty sweet life as it is. As it is, he’s sitting in the passenger seat of Donna’s Mercedes as they head to Eagleton for the morning.  
  
Tom Haverford doesn’t play hooky. He prefers to call it “#betterthingstodo”. It pains him that he has to do these better things in utter secrecy, let alone in Eagleton, but he has no choice. His confidante, Donna, feels the exact same way. Or at least, she can tweet about their antics because for all intents and purposes it’s secret – it’s not like those who would get mad about them playing hooky even know what Twitter even is. For once, Tom and Donna can thank Jerry for that – he had accidentally created an account and thought it was a search engine and it went viral. Donna was seething mad that he gained more followers from people laughing at Jerry than she had done in years of carefully establishing a professional online presence. But the result was that every single person in City Hall was banned from using Twitter on their work computers, INCLUDING the IT staff who are meant to police the rule. Nothing in the memo said anything about using Twitter on their phones, but only Donna and Tom have picked up on this loophole.  
  
“Ugh, Benjy Bummer is calling,” Donna rolls her eyes. The call was bound to come eventually, but her boss must be on the warpath this morning to be calling this early.   
  
“Ignore it. You already told Chris that your cat is dying,” Tom advises, reclining back in his seat with his hands behind his head. When his own phone starts ringing the tone he selected especially for Ben (a rousing rendition of ‘Whoomp There It Is’), he silences his phone without even bothering to check the messages.  
  
“ _Mayday, mayday! We have a Code Tammy on our hands! I need you guys down here at the public library ASAP!”_  
  


* * *

__  
  
“Tammy…Traeger?” Ron looks suspiciously at Ben, who gives a reluctant nod.  
  
“Yes, Chris and Tammy were once married. Don’t ask me how. He doesn’t like to talk about it.” It’s true. One of the town’s biggest mysteries is the story behind Chris and Tammy’s relationship. Theories vary wildly from Tammy hypnotising Chris to a botched Secret Valentine event gone wrong to them being high school sweethearts (Jerry suggested the last one, but he was laughed out of the office). Nevertheless they are now divorced and Chris politely pretends that Tammy doesn’t exist while Tammy is still plotting his death (so April insists).  
  
“Hmm,” Ron replies as he makes his way up the steps to the front door, eyes fixed on the head librarian. Her mouth slowly curls into a smile as he walks past her.  
  
“Welcome to the Pawnee Public Library,” she simpers to Leslie and Ron. Leslie is as enthusiastic as ever as she shakes Tammy’s hand, but Ron barely grunts in her direction. Kristen is next to pass Tammy, and she whispers something in her ear. The pair of them turn to look at Ben and they break out into a round of cackles. Ben’s half surprised that the garden outside aren’t withering up and dying at the sound.  
  
When they’re all inside, Ben is kicking himself and Chris mentally for allowing him to do this alone. There are too many enemies in one room for him to handle by himself. And they’ve obviously done their research. Mildred Hamperbatch is standing invitingly next to the buffet breakfast they have set up in the auditors’ honour.  
  
Ron doesn’t need any more encouragement. He takes off towards the buffet without any more pleasantries; Leslie explains “He can’t socialise on an empty stomach.” But something catches her eye on the buffet table.  
  
“OH MY GOD PANCAKES!” she shrieks, and bolts over to the table, following Ron and starts heaping a plate a mile high with pancakes. Ben’s a little startled. Leslie and Ron certainly aren’t the government employed drones that Ben has been anticipating. The way in which they’ve succumbed to the banquet without even noticing the tense nature of the library standoff seems a little too good to be true.  
  
At least this gives Ben time to develop a strategy. Maybe if he -  
  
“So, you must be Ben Wyatt!” A young, unfamiliar face approaches Ben with a sunny smile on her face.  
  
“I – uh – huh? Who are you?” Pawnee’s a small town, and he’s pretty sure he’s never seen this woman before. Especially as she appears to be with the librarians, and he has each of the library staff members’ faces seared into his brain.  
  
“Delilah Newport. New Junior Rookie Assistant Librarian.” _But she still looks like she has a soul!_ Ben glances around the room. Ron and Leslie are still filling up at the buffet, and Tammy and Kristen are separately talking to their teams. He figures he can talk to Delilah for a minute or two at least.  
  
“So,” Delilah says, perching on the edge of the returns desk next to where Ben is standing, “I heard you were the only one responsible enough to see that the Summer Snowman Festival was an elaborate waste of money?” _Good Lord! Finally, someone who appreciates good financial decisions!_ This is Ben’s opportunity to gain traction and rebuild his reputation! Delilah is looking at him so eagerly with her earnest blue eyes, framed by her soft brown curls. She reminds him of a more innocent version of April with her delicate frame. It’s important that Ben words his story in the right way so that it makes a lasting (and favourable) impression.  
  
“Well, I wouldn’t say the _only_ one…” Ben perches on the returns desk next to Delilah to get comfortable. He hasn’t told the full story in YEARS, and he’s going to do it right this time. No skimping out on details.  
  
“GET YOUR ASS OFF THAT DESK, WYATT!” Suddenly Tammy is right behind him, barking in his ear. Ben practically falls off the returns desk. _But Delilah sat there first!_

“OH MY GOD, HE’S TORN THE TELLENSON MANUSCRIPT!” Another shriek from behind the returns desk. Ben could have sworn that he didn’t sit on anything, but Delilah is holding up the ruined bits of paper that clearly were destroyed by a buttprint. Was that him? Ben’s so confused. Everyone in the library is now staring at him, looking at him with intense disappointment.  
  
“You just destroyed thousands of dollars of city property, Wyatt! How could you?!” _I don’t know! I didn’t mean it!_ Ben’s at a loss for words as he tries to muster up a response in front of the librarians, the Events department and of course their guests.  
  
“We had to deliver that to Mayor Gunderson this morning, now someone’s going to have to tell him that it’s been ruined!” Delilah’s practically in tears. Leslie is appalled.  
  
“ _I just wanted my day off!”_ Ben cries out in anguish, and he is immediately hushed by every single library staff member, AND the Events team.  
  
“Goodness me, Mayor Gunderson isn’t going to be too pleased about this, Benjy Bummer,” Kristen is shaking her head, but her voice is filled with unmistakeable glee.  
  
“Bye-bye Parks budget,” Tammy adds spitefully as she escorts him outside, kicking him to the curb. As she re-enters her domain, she slams the door shut behind her.  
  
The complete silence of the library that follows is broken by the sound of a large belch.  
  
“Excellent bacon, ladies,” Ron declares to the room at large. Kristen and Tammy exchange triumphant smirks – the downfall of the Parks and Recreation department has begun.  


	6. Chapter 6

_Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick._ Ben has lost count of how many ‘ticks’ he’s heard since he’s been in this room. He can’t believe it. He half expected that he would be on his way to exile by now (even if it was self-imposed). But amazingly, he’s still in Pawnee. Ben’s not in jail, and all his limbs are intact.   
  
But it’s unclear whether he’s actually free to go. Mayor Gunderson is currently slouching in his chair, looking utterly bored after having a brief conversation with Ben about the debacle in the library. At least, Ben assumes that it’s the mayor. He’s an elusive man who somehow managed to win the mayoralty without winning any public appearances. His campaign was built squarely on other people telling the public that he was a trust-worthy guy. However, as it turns out, Mayor Gunderson is rather young for a man who is in charge of a budget the size of Pawnee’s.  
  
“That’s not good, Mr Wyatt, not good at all.” The 21 year old is distractedly spinning in his chair as he delivers his judgment. Ben’s not entirely sure, but it seems like the young man is also stroking an imaginary cat.   
  
“I’m sorry, Mayor Gunderson, have we met before?” Jumping into life, Ben’s captor throws back his head and lets out an evil laugh that goes on for far too long. It sends chills down Ben’s spine and is probably capable of killing small animals in the area and petrifying children. _THIS is the guy everyone voted for?!_  
  
“Oh, I’m not Mayor Gunderson. I’m his son, MAJOR Gunderson. But you can call me Bradley.” Major Bradley Gunderson, son of the mayor who no-one’s ever met. And who is apparently missing. Fantastic.  
  
“Where’s your dad? Shouldn’t he be the one talking to me?” Nothing is ever that simple in Pawnee, clearly.   
  
“Look Benjy Bummer, you can start asking questions about the whereabouts of the mayor and about things like ‘breaking and entering’ and ‘impersonating a government official’, or you can accept that you will remain unpunished and let me nap in this comfy-ass chair. What do you say?”    
  
“Uhhh…” Ben says uncertainly, glancing between Bradley and the door. What to say? Will this cover-up get him into trouble? _No wonder this town is falling apart,_ he thinks in a moment of frustration. Ah, to hell with it. If the kid just wants to sleep and the mayor’s not around, he’s going to get his peace and quiet right now. Ben props his feet up on the chair opposite him and tilts his head back, closing his eyes. The ticks of the clock are actually quite soothing. Bradley smiles triumphantly as he mirrors Ben’s actions.  
  
“I’ll tell my dad you were punished appropriately. You’ve made a good choice.”  
  
“Have I?” Ben mumbles, but the prospect of a nap is too promising to give up. The mayor’s office has excellent sound-proofing that on other days Ben might question, but today it works in his favour. If he plays his cards right, he can stay here until his lunch break and sneak out. Chris won’t be expecting him back and no doubt Leslie and Ron will have already been lost to the librarian’s wrath.  There’s little that he can do right now. Perhaps it’s time for Ben to let things play out without interference. As he drifts off to sleep, his last thought is that at least he’ll have a story to tell Ann.   


* * *

  
  
“Ben!? Ben? Dude, wake up!” Ben is startled awake by a hand shaking his shoulder. It’s Andy Dwyer, looking thoroughly concerned. He breathes a sigh of relief at Ben’s awakening.  
  
“Oh, thank God, I thought you were dead!” _Why on earth would you think that?_ But at least it’s a friendly face who cares about him.  
  
“What gave you that idea?”   
  
“Well, I heard that you were in trouble, and so I ran to the mayor’s office to defend you, and when I got here you both looked dead and I thought the mayor had killed you and then himself so it looked like he didn’t do it.” Ben twists his lips, trying to conceal a smile. It’s about as convoluted as the truth. Ben sits up slightly and leans over to Andy.  
  
“Andy, have you seen this man before?” he whispers. If Andy hasn’t (which Ben is counting on), then this makes things easier for Ben.  
  
“It’s the mayor, right? I’m not really into politics,” Andy whispers candidly. He gives an anxious scan of the room and then shakes Ben’s shoulder again.   
  
“Dude, I think we better get out of here. He might wake up and try and kill you again. I’ll help you escape,” he adds in a more authoritarian voice. For once, Ben is not going to dismiss Bert Macklin’s protection. At the very least, he can provide a distraction.   
  
“Okay, let’s go,” Ben agrees, and he quietly gets up out from his chair. Bradley is snoring, but the change from soft breathing noises to full-blown cartoon snores makes Ben think that the mayor’s son is awake and is allowing the other two to leave without incident. Has Ben made himself a useful ally?  
  
But there’s no time to dwell on that as he follows his rescuer out. Andy proves a very thorough escort through the building. Armed with a water pistol, he checks every corridor and closet before they’re allowed to go through. After a few close calls with staff members from the Probation Office and Human Resources, they end up safely outside the Parks and Recreation department. Wait a minute.  
  
“Andy! You were supposed to get me out of here!” Ben hisses. Andy’s about to retort when the door opens. Ben flattens himself against the wall and braces for the worst when April exits looking at one of the many folders she’s cradling. She stops in her tracks and looks to her left and right. Ben is flat against the wall, and Andy is somehow on the floor clutching his knees to his chest, a wince on his face.  
  
“What are you guys doing?” April doesn’t _really_ care what they’re up to, but Chris has given her “ _literally_ the most important task you will do all day” (filing), and she’s planning on dragging out the task for as long as possible so he never asks her to do it again.   
  
“Helping Ben escape from the mayor who’s trying to kill him,” Andy explains helpfully. There’s a glint in April’s eyes that Ben knows to mean that she finds this situation hilarious and potentially lucrative.  
  
“Did you uncover his secret?” she asks coyly, closing the folder she had open. This piques Andy’s interest.  
  
“A secret?! Cool!” Is April the one person in town who knows that the man parading himself as the mayor is not actually who he says he is? Ben wouldn’t be surprised. She tends to know a lot more than she lets on.   
  
“Yeah, he has an underground laser cat-fighting ring,” she replies, enjoying the distraction.   
  
“Hahaha…” Ben’s not very good with fake laughs. April has the uncanny ability to make Ben second-guess what he assumes are her lies.  Even if her claim is made in jest, it won’t stop Ben wonder if her comments have an element of truth in them. Especially given the fact that very few people have actually seen the mayor in real life, it seems. This may warrant some further investigating. But there’ll be time for that later.   
  
“Look, April, why don’t you just continue as you were, and we’ll get going.” April rolls her eyes and keeps walking to her destination, which Ben takes as a sign of her agreement. As Andy and Ben start heading in the opposite direction, April calls something over her shoulder which gives Ben half a mind to turn around and start damage control, but he forces himself to keep looking straight ahead.   
  
“I’ll let Chris know that you’ve finished with the mayor!” _Focus, Wyatt. Your goal is to leave undetected._ Heck, at this point Ben’s goal is just to leave. But as he and Andy are just about at the front door, looking over their shoulders for any followers, they nearly collide with two people carrying a multitude of shopping bags. Not just any two people, either.   
  
“Tom? Donna? What are you-” Ben is cut off by Andy frogmarching him out the door urgently. He tries to turn around to confront them about them playing hooky, but Andy is remarkably strong. So strong, in fact, that for a moment Ben wonders if Andy has had some form of military training or something else equally intense. It’s probably impolite to ask, even more so if it turns out to be true. But maybe Ben could get some strength tips from Andy – it would be humiliating if he has to ask Chris, especially given how many times Ben has outright refused to have Chris develop a fitness plan for him. Who knows, he may need it in the coming weeks.   
  
“So, uh, Andy, where did you get so strong?” Ben asks, trying to sound casual as Andy continues to walk him down the street. Andy pulls his sunglasses from his pocket and puts them on before answering Ben’s question.   
  
“That’s classified information.” Of course. Ben’s scepticism towards Bert Macklin in the past has meant that he has failed to reach the level of clearance required. At least he tried. If the situation escalates with the auditors and the enemies of the Parks department, he knows he’ll be able to trust Andy to step up.    
  
Turns out Ben can also trust Andy to lead him where he needs to be. When they arrive at JJ’s Diner, Andy gives Ben a knowing nod.  
  
“Catch you later, boss.” Ben smiles gratefully at him, and they part ways. Ann’s already at their table with a book when he enters. He slides into his usual seat and pulls out the workbook that he keeps hidden in a crack in the seat. It’s for when he gets there before Ann and he wants to get some work done while waiting. Ann simply raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t say anything. They both know what she would say anyway. With a renewed sense of determination, Ben pulls a pen out of his jacket pocket and starts scribbling down everything he needs to get his head around to make sure the town doesn’t fall to pieces in front of him.

  1. _Kristen and her cronies_
  2. _Tammy and the ~~Romulans~~ librarians _
  3. _Donna and Tom’s Bogus Journey_
  4. _Ways to pre-emptively cut the Parks budget_
  5. _The mayor (cat-fighting ring??????)_
  6. _The mayor’s son_
  7. _Leslie Knope_



He figures that there’s no point in putting Ron Swanson on that list – he’s the sort of man who will remain an enigma and there’s little point trying to appease him or understand him. Each of the other items on the list bring their own unique and complicated dilemmas. This will keep him nice and busy.   
  
As Ben is writing down possible problems and solutions, he can feel Ann’s gaze over her book. He knows she’s only pretending to read now, and so he pretends to ignore her. It’s only prolonging the inevitable. In a matter of minutes or seconds, she will no doubt put her book down, look at him very meaningfully, and open by saying “Ben…” in a gentle voice that will make him want to run away.  
  
Ann puts her book down ( _see, I was right!)._ Ben continues to scribble in his workbook, even faster; pointedly not looking at his friend across the table. He knows it’s coming. Part of him thinks he deserves it; all this trouble would have been avoided if he had just strictly heeded Ann’s advice. The other part of him is defiant - it’s not his fault his hectic day started when the newcomers knocked on his door. It’s this part of him that is welcoming the idea of Ann saying ‘I told you so’ – because his response is on the tip of his tongue, ready to spit out. A response, and a whole lot of venting. _This wasn’t supposed to happen!_ But for all his supposed preparation for an onslaught, Ann’s innocent question is one that throws him completely off-guard.   
  
“Oooh, who’s Leslie?” _What?_ Of all the things on his list, that’s what she latches onto? _Why??_  
  
“Huh? Uh, she’s – she’s nobody.” Wrong answer, Benjy Bummer.


	7. Chapter 7

Some days Ann Perkins wonders whether she spent too much time dating her ex-boyfriend, Andy. She wonders that because when she’s faced with a challenge, instead of looking at things with a clear head and a fair distance, she’s now more likely to be gung-ho about it. But there’s little time to dwell on that. She has a mission to complete.  
  
Her mission was made clear as soon as Ben lied to her. This Leslie Knope person is clearly somebody important, and Ann is determined to find out who exactly she is and track her down.  
  
Saint Joseph Hospital is more than a place where the sick, injured and drug-seeking go to soothe their ailments. For those in the know, it has a trading post of secrets and information. Every day, whispers, handshakes and treasure changes hands as people come in and out day after day. It’s Pawnee’s best kept secret, and those involved take it extremely seriously. Some would say more than their actual jobs.  
  
  
That’s why it’s the best place to start.  
  
When it’s time to head back to work after her lunch with Ben, Ann discreetly slips in the front door of the hospital and tries to be nonchalant as she approaches the reception desk.  
  
“It looks like rain,” she says in a low voice to Elma, the receptionist. The sun is shining brilliantly outside. Elma peers up at Ann over her half-moon spectacles.  
  
“Go ahead,” Elma replies with an understanding nod, handing Ann a clipboard. The clipboard is holding blank patient sheets, but it has a tracking chip in it that became necessary after an intruder infiltrated the trading post and nearly blew the whole thing wide open. They’ve put stringent checks in place to keep track of who goes in, and who goes out. The federal and city government just think it’s to stay ahead of clipboard bandits. They can keep believing that.  
  
Ann makes her way down the west hallway, pausing to sneak into a supply room while her boss walks past. When she’s in the clear, she continues down the hallway and into a defunct boiler room. After waiting in the boiler room for precisely 7 minutes and 26 seconds, she opens a door in the boiler room which leads to a hidden stairwell. On the third landing of the stairwell underground is the floor Ann seeks.  
  
As she makes her way to the hub of the secret trading post, her mind drifts to Ben. He has a lot on his plate, and he has seemed way bummed lately. But at the mention of this Leslie person, she saw the closest thing to life in his emotions. The way in which he stammered a denial over the importance of Leslie was a sure sign that he was interested in her. And Ann is extremely excited about this. His happiness is worth going to the trading post for answers.  
  
When she reaches the door, it takes a few seconds of deep breaths before she feels ready to enter. With her left hand, she knocks 5 slow knocks and three quick knocks.  
  
“ _Enter.”_ A disembodied voice commands. Ann opens the door, and a wave of smoke surrounds her. This is break room number 4, a supposedly empty room that has been ‘out of action’ for nearly 11 years. Or so most people assume. This break room is the one room in all of the publicly-owned Pawnee buildings where people are allowed to smoke inside. That’s purely because those who enforce the rules don’t venture this deep into the hospital’s depths.    
  
The disembodied voice that told Ann to enter belongs to Cindy Pikitis. The 19-year old pharmacy student is member of the most infamous underground crime family in all of Pawnee. Her younger brother, Greg, is the hidden in plain sight icon for the family. He deals in petty crimes like vandalism, and his young and teenaged attitude provides the perfect façade for the more professional crimes that his family are engaged in. Cindy runs the trading post, and her connections make her the perfect candidate for the job.  She is seated in the comfiest chair in the room, with a person on either side of her – a big, beefy chiropractor named Mason, and a sallow-faced anaesthetist named Carmen. There are others in the room, all of whom are smoking apart from Cindy and Ann, but Ann doesn’t focus on them. She’s here for a single purpose.  
  
“Ah, Perkins. What brings you here today?” The low hum of the air extractor in the room and the dim underground lighting makes the setting somewhat disturbing, but Ann has been down here enough times to know how things operate down here. Ann walks up to the table in front of Cindy and puts down the clipboard and her initial deposit – a doggie bag with a total of three chocolate chip pancakes that Ann smuggled out of JJ’s Diner (she asked nicely and paid for them, but Ann gains more street cred if she pretends she smuggled them out). Cindy uses a pen to lift up the doggie bag to examine the deposit.  
  
“ _Three_ chocolate chip pancakes? You must be after something important. Name your requests, Perkins.” Ann clears her throat a little nervously before making her demands.  
  
“I would like the full run down on a person called Leslie Knope, who either works for City Hall, or she-” Cindy raises a hand to cut her off.  
  
“Say no more. I’ll get you your information. But first, we need to discuss payment. I get you the information you need, and in return you tutor my brother in biology for an entire semester.”  
  
“No way,” Ann blurts out before she can even properly consider the offer. Cindy shakes her head in disappointment.  
  
“Then I can’t help you, Perkins. Mason, escort her out of here.” Mason gets up from his seat, cracking his knuckles, and Ann starts to fear for her life.  
  
“Okay, okay, wait! Hear me out. I’ll tutor your brother in biology for _half_ a semester, with no guarantees on his grades.” When Cindy doesn’t look convinced, Ann improvises something else to sweeten the deal.  
  
“ _And_ …the next two times you go to a party, I will purchase your alcohol for you with reimbursement,” she adds through gritted teeth and closed eyes. _It’s for the greater good,_ she tries to reassure herself. Cindy ponders this for a moment, and sticks out her hand for Ann to shake it.  
  
“We have ourselves a deal. Carmen, get me my laptop.” Carmen reaches down under the table and pulls up a laptop which she places in front of Cindy. Cindy adopts a pair of glasses as she powers up the laptop. After a few minutes of frantic typing and clicking, Cindy presents her findings.  
  
“Leslie Knope…let’s see…lives in Indianapolis, Indiana. She works for an accounting company in liaison with the Indiana state government. She’s part of a task force which will be auditing Pawnee City Hall to help them cut spending.”  
  
“Did you just Google her? I could have done that!” Ann protests.  
  
“You pay for your stupidity, Perkins. I have a few more pieces of information which will be of interest to you. She’s engaged to a guy named Mark Brendanawicz, who is an architect in Indianapolis.” Ann’s heart sinks. Ben is going to be devastated when he finds out – _if_ he finds out. Ann’s not sure she wants to tell him.  
  
“And also she was given a prescription ten minutes ago for an anti-histamine.” That is a piece of information that cannot be Googled, and the flagrant breach of patient confidentiality cannot be ignored.  
  
“How do you know _that_?” Ann asks incredulously. Cindy raises an eyebrow at Ann and laughs condescendingly.  
  
“Perkins, I can’t reveal my sources. Are we done here?”  
  
“Uh…yes. Thanks.” Ann has to hurry if she wants to catch this mysterious Leslie Knope. She turns around to bolt out the door when Cindy calls after her.  
  
“Perkins! As a token of goodwill, I’ll give you this for free – _beware eventful eagles.”_ Cindy’s statement makes absolutely no sense, and she’s not going to bother to try and decrypt the message. Ann runs as fast as she can up the stairwell, navigating the hallways to get to the pharmacy in time.  
  
  
  
“ _I don’t have hay fever, why are your staff insisting that I take these anti-histamines?”_ Ann hears a voice from the hallway next to the pharmacy. Ann pokes her head round the corner of the hallway and spots a group of people congregated next to the door. She recognises two of the four people – the first of which is the dean of the hospital, Dr Mort, and the second is a woman who Ann recognises from City Hall who exudes a Cruella DeVille vibe. The other two is a burly man with a distinctive moustache, and a small blonde woman who appears remarkably peppy. _That must be Leslie!_  
  
Dr Mort laughs nervously.  
  
“I guess our team here at Saint Joseph Hospital are just trying to show what excellent care we give our citizens, and our honorary citizens such as yourselves.” It’s a bribe. They’re bribing state employees with anti-histamines. The city is doomed. Leslie, however, is truly touched by being labelled an honorary citizen.  
  
“Honorary citizen? I – wow, that means so much to me. Your town has been so welcoming to us. I thank you.” Leslie chokes, almost fighting tears. A brainwave hits Ann, and before she can think it over, she is walking up the group with confidence.  
  
“Dr Mort!” she calls out cheerfully (she’s never talked to Dr Mort in her entire life). “I brought you something!” Dr Mort seems surprised by this relative stranger, but he doesn’t question it.  
  
“Ah, yes, uh, nurse! What have you got for me?” Ann pulls out a second doggie bag that she had concealed from the trading post. It contains another two chocolate chip pancakes from JJ’s Diner.  
  
“As a thank you for being such a good boss, I brought you these pancakes from JJ’s Diner.” Ann can now introduce herself to the two visitors, and help salvage the reputation of the corrupt hospital. Leslie’s eyes are fixated on the doggie bag.  
  
“Oh, thank you, but I am allergic to chocolate. Perhaps our guests would like to take them instead?” Ann turns to Leslie and the moustached man, offering them the doggie bag. The man nods to Leslie, and Leslie graciously accepts.  
  
“Thank you, you’re a magnificent life-saver, Miss…?”  
  
“Perkins. Ann Perkins. Call me Ann,” Ann supplies.  
  
“Ann. I’m Leslie Knope, and this is Ron Swanson. I think we should be friends!” _Well, that was easy._ Ben is going to be so pleased. But before Ann can happily accept Leslie’s offer of friendship, the Cruella DeVille lady chimes in.  
  
“I know you, you’re Benjy Bummer’s only friend.”  
  
“ _Am not!”_ Ann retorts, but she realises too late how bad that sounds. What she means is that she’s not Ben’s _only_ friend, but what it sounds like is she’s saying is that she is not Ben’s friend at all. And he doesn’t need that right now. She quickly tries to backpedal.  
  
“I mean, I AM his friend, I’m just not his _only_ friend.”  
  
“Ben Wyatt? He seems like a nice man.” Leslie chirps. Ann nods frantically.  
  
“He is. I think he’s a very good person.”  
  
“Well that makes one of you,” the other woman mutters, and anger swells up inside Ann.  
  
“Why don’t you just shut your – your face!” Ann snaps. She’s not so good with witty comebacks, especially not when she’s angry. She figures it’s time to leave before she does any more damage.  
  
“I have to go now. Ron, Leslie, Dr Mort… _you,”_ she bids each of them farewell. Leslie hands her her business card, and Ann is able to get back to work with a sense of accomplishment, even if that accomplishment is a mixed bag. She has plenty to tell Ben later on.  


* * *

  
“She was at the hospital? What was she doing there?” Ann is seated on Ben’s couch, having stopped by after her shift. Ben is sitting across from her in jeans and a t-shirt, which makes him look more relaxed than he normally does in his suit and tie. It’s nice to see him look less stressed. Which is why she is annoyed with him for ignoring her suggesting he take a day off. But she will let it slide for now.  
  
“She and Ron were getting a tour around the hospital. Dr Mort was trying to bribe them with anti-histamines.”  
  
“Oh my God,” Ben moans, burying his head in his hands. “We cannot afford to bribe them. Literally.”  
  
“I also met a woman who really hates your guts.”  
  
“That narrows it down,” Ben jokes sarcastically, and Ann narrows her eyes disapprovingly at her friend.  
  
“Ben. Stop putting yourself down. This woman looks like a younger Cruella DeVille, and she’s evil and mean and I don’t like her at all.”  
  
“That sounds like Kristen Holt.” _I’ll keep calling her Cruella._ Ann nods.  
  
“Yeah, her! She sucks.” Before either of them can keep expressing their vehement dislike for Kristen, there’s a knock at the door. Ben and Ann exchange confused looks. Ann gestures to the door.  
  
“Do you want me to get it?” She hops off the couch, and opens the front door up to Leslie Knope.  
  
“Leslie!” Ann exclaims in surprise.  
“Ann!” Leslie sounds just as surprised. Leslie peers around Ann through to Ben.  
  
  
“Are you and Ben – are you two?” She makes some vague gestures, but Ben and Ann get the gist and start violently protesting.  
  
“No, no!”  
“No, we’re just – we’re friends!”  
“There’s nothing going on here.”  
“Nothing.”  
  
“It’s okay, I won’t tell. You two are a cute couple.”  
  
This is not going how Ann planned it. Although it doesn’t really matter anyway because Leslie is taken, it won’t help Ben’s spirits. Ben beckons to Ann to let Leslie in.  
  
“Thank you Ben. It’s good to see you’re wearing pants this time!” Leslie adds with a grin. Ann shoots a look to Ben – _what the hell does that mean?!_ Ben laughs, ducking his head abashedly.  
  
“Yeah. I wear pants on occasion.”  
  
“Well, it doesn’t change my opinion of you,” Leslie assures him. Ann is beginning to feel like a third wheel – there’s something that she has clearly missed. Before Ann starts to feel too awkward, however, Leslie changes the subject.  
  
“Anyway, Ben, I just came by to tell you that in three days’ time, the heads of each department in City Hall will be giving their official presentation on what they hope to get out of our visit here. I spoke to Chris already, and we want you to present with him.” A work call. Urgh. This seems to liven Ben up, though – he sits up straighter and gives Leslie the biggest smile Ann’s seen on his face in a long time. The goddamn workaholic.  
  
“That would be great. Thank you.” Leslie beams at him, and then she turns to Ann.  
  
“And you. Tomorrow I would very much like to visit this diner place where you got those pancakes, if you are around on your lunch break.” Ann is in no position to refuse, and she doesn’t want to. Leslie exudes this feeling of happiness, much unlike Cruella DeVille.  
  
“Absolutely. JJ’s diner at 12:30?”  
  
“Perfect. Well, I’ll let you two get back to your – yeah.” Leslie leaves, and once the door shuts behind her, Ben and Ann exchange slightly panicked looks.  
  
“Sorry, Ben.” Ben stretches out in his seat tiredly.  
  
“It’s okay. She has a boyfriend already.” Oh. He already knows. At least she doesn’t have to hide that little factoid. She’s slightly disappointed that she went to all that trouble to learn something for Ben that he already knew, but she quickly pushes the thought from her mind.  
  
“I can’t believe you’re ditching me to have lunch with her,” Ben teases. Ann rolls her eyes.  
  
“If I told her I was already having lunch with you, that wouldn’t help the whole ‘her thinking we’re dating thing’,” she points out. Ben concedes a nod.  
  
“That’s true. Oh well. We have three days to regroup and hopefully make us look okay. Kristen sure isn’t helping,” Ben sighs.  
  
“You’ll be fine. If Leslie’s on your side, then you won’t have any problems.” Ann’s confident. Ben has goals, and now he has a motivation to complete these goals. Leslie will be a positive in his life. Even if it’s just the thought of being her friend. That has to be a good thing.  
  
Later that night, when Ann’s about to fall asleep, Cindy’s earlier advice pops into her brain. _Beware eventful eagles._ There aren’t too many eagles in the Pawnee area, so Ann wonders why they would need to worry about them?  
  
And then it hits her. _Oh no._ There’s a major problem brewing in Pawnee. She’s going to sound like a lunatic if she just starts talking about it. She needs to get someone with authority on her side. _Yes. Good idea, Ann._ Tomorrow if she gets Chris Traeger on her side, they may be able to stop it. But to pluck up the courage to tell him her hunch, pancakes and Leslie Knope are a perfect way to go about it.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because Ann Perkins is a badass.


	8. Chapter 8

Leslie Knope is the sweetest, most encouraging person that Ann has ever had the pleasure to meet. Ann can’t tell Leslie exactly why she needs to talk to Chris Traeger, but Leslie still has the confidence that Ann can accomplish it.  
  
“Ann, you can do anything you want. You are a strong, grandiose giraffe. I believe in you.” As it turns out, pancakes are the lifeblood of Leslie’s positivity. They give her the power to sincerely compliment near strangers, which is what Ann is to her. It has only been 20 minutes, and already Leslie is treating her like they’re best friends. It makes Ann wonder what on earth could compel the woman to be an auditor, for God’s sake! But such a question can wait until they go for tequila shots together. Ann’s beginning to understand why Ben’s so interested in Leslie. She’s never been sadder to hear that someone is taken (not counting Ryan Gosling, of course). But this Mark fella is one lucky guy, that’s for sure.   
  
“Thank you, Leslie. That means a lot.”   
  
“Of course. It’ll be like when Eowyn takes down the Witch King in Return of the King.” This is the one part of their relationship that Ann knows that she will have to work at. Leslie is a _fervent_ fan of Lord of the Rings. The only other person that she knows who loves the Lord of the Rings as much as Leslie is Ben. Ann, on the other hand, can’t stand it. But she’s already somehow agreed to marathon the films with Leslie, on the provision that she can bring Ben along. Ben will be far better company than Ann in such a situation, and if it helps them get together in the long-run, then that’s just a bonus! Ann pushes the guilty thoughts of how she’s trying to help break up an engagement out of her head. That’s not what’s happening her. All she wants is for her friends to be happy. And two fellow Lord of the Rings nerds geeking out together is perfectly innocent. Especially if she’s going to be there as well.   
  
“E-exactly like that,” Ann nods in agreement. It’s the sentiment that counts, after all.  


* * *

  
  
  
It is a long-established fact in Pawnee that Chris Traeger hates to say no to people. The little child who wants an extra swing for that park, those crafty but resourceful beggars that he encounters on his ten mile run. That’s what he has Ben for. Ben is the angel on his shoulder who coaxes Chris away from spending $300,000 on a paper sculpture for the local pool. But Ben’s not here at the moment, and he’s finding it very difficult to find the words to turn down the request asked of him by the person in front of him. Nevertheless, what’s being asked of him is something that he cannot say yes to.   
  
“I’m truly sorry, but I can’t allow it.” Chris especially hates saying no to Ann Perkins. She’s an upstanding member of the community who is part of a noble profession, and the fact that she is a close friend of Ben’s is another tick in her direction. But to fulfil Ann’s request would violate orders from above, and Chris’ hands are tied. Not literally, in this instance. That doesn’t mean that it is any harder to deviate from the orders placed on him, however.   
  
“Come on, can’t you let me in for just five minutes?” Ann pleads.   
  
“Nurse Perkins,” (he still insists on calling her this despite her repeated requests that he just call her Ann) “I would like to make sure I have a correct and proper rundown of the facts just one more time. So, you’d like to sit in on the presentations.”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“And this is because you have a suspicion about another department who can’t be disclosed.”  
  
“Correct.” Ann has left out naming the Events department as the culprits because she doesn’t want to let them know that she’s onto them. Plus, she’s aware of the shaky relations between the two departments and it would make the Parks department look petty to have them badmouth another department in the middle of presentations to the auditors. But she believes her presence as someone who is not involved with government will help to keep people honest, or at least tone the corruption down a notch.   
  
  
“This suspicion you speak of also cannot be disclosed?”   
  
“That’s right.”  
  
  
“Your secret suspicion, about people who can’t be named, was told to you by unnamed sources in a place that you are not willing to divulge.” Okay, it sounds rather pathetic when Chris puts it like that. But the dignity and sanctity of the trading post must be upheld, and Ann would be ordering her own execution if she were to snitch on a member of the Pikitis family.   
  
“Yeah, okay.” Ann deflates in her seat. Leslie, although not knowing exactly what it was that Ann wanted to achieve, had assured her that it was possible. At this point, Ann’s more upset that she’ll be letting Leslie down than not achieving her goal. But if she goes and talks to Leslie again, she knows that at least Leslie will be kind and comforting about it.   
  


* * *

  
  
Kind and comforting – and then some. The next time Ann meets with Leslie, she is too dejected to hide her motivations.   
  
“I just really, really wanted to get into that city meeting. But Chris said his hands were tied,” Ann says sadly. They’re sitting in the temporary office that Leslie and Ron have been allocated for the duration of their stay. Two coffees are on the desk; Leslie hasn’t touched hers as the scent is enough to keep her buzzed for hours. Ann’s was downed in the first 30 seconds of their next meeting, and the cup sits next to a tell-tale coffee ring on the desk.   
  
“The meeting with all the heads of department?” Leslie is pleasantly surprised by this revelation. Not only is Ann a wonderful person, she also seems to be involved with her community – being a nurse, helping Ben out. Wanting to go to such a meeting shows another level of commitment and care to Pawnee. And who is Leslie to stop someone with such a sense of civic duty?   
  
  
“Ann Perkins. If you want, you can come to the meeting as my attaché. You don’t have to do anything, I’ll just say that I invited you because you represent the health sector of this town. Which is true. Plus, I’m one of the people with the power to ask extra people to join,” Leslie adds gleefully.   
  
It’s not exactly out of civic duty that Ann wishes to attend, but this is more than Ann could ever have expected, and she jumps up and gives Leslie a massive hug.   
  
“You have no idea how much this means to me!” she squeals. Maybe she does have _some_ sense of civic duty. Her worries about the Events department, if true, could affect the whole town. But is that because she cares about the town, or because she wants to help her friend? Either way, it doesn’t matter. Her plan is about to be set in motion, and that’s thanks to Leslie Knope.   


* * *

  
  
  
  
In many places, local government meetings are the sluggish and mind-numbing occurrences that slowly push the city forward. They may have disagreements and a certain degree of politicking, but they tend to follow a certain formula. People talk and present their ideas, other people respond, more talking, calm speeches with the occasional occurrence of voice-raising. But not in Pawnee. Whilst public town hall meetings in Pawnee _usually_ maintain the façade of composure, the meetings that are held behind closed doors are a whole different story.   
  
Closed door government meetings in Pawnee often resemble something halfway between a witch-burning and a drunken, out of order courtroom; complete with screams, papers thrown violently at others and more often than not a fire alarm is pulled (although that’s usually by April who tends not attend such meetings). Preparation for such meetings requires a certain mental steeliness. Sometimes even a literal attack strategy. It’s gotten to the point where the city of Pawnee is required to notify the National Guard before any such meetings are undertaken. It’s all very hush-hush, of course – if the citizens of Pawnee knew that the majority of their civil servants were a bunch of misfits, there’d be riots in the streets. Such riots would still be likely to be tamer than the meetings. But it’s a Pawnee tradition, even if it is somewhat unorthodox.   
  
This is why a large part of Chris and Ben’s preparation for the meeting calls for pep talks and strenuous mental training. Thankfully, the rest of the Parks department has them covered.  
  
  
“You’re walking up to the podium, and then BAM! Your pants fall down, someone wolf whistles, you drop your cue cards and then the room catches on fire. What do you do, Ben?!” Chris and Ben are seated side by side on two chairs in the middle of the office. It’s an unusual bad cop/bad cop/bad cop/good cop (“Dammit, Jerry! Good cop’s no fun!”) situation with the four of them circling their bosses, throwing scenarios at them to help them prepare. Bert Macklin is standing in the doorway as this takes place, doubling as security from outsiders and also to ensure that the training doesn’t mentally break Chris and Ben before the meeting.   
  
Chris takes these training sessions very seriously. Although he is virtually the pinnacle of physical well-being, he acknowledges that the mental aspect of things has some catching up to do. But he’s always eager to improve. Ben, however, finds the charade a little pointless. Having outlandish, hypothetical scenarios thrown at him will serve very little purpose. This is because what tends to happen in such meetings is usually far worse than what his staff could prepare him for. Especially this time. His nightmare scenario for this upcoming meeting is based on something that’s completely out of his control. It’s going to be a disaster. There’s little point in holding false hopes that it could possibly go well – better to keep expectations low and stay alert. An escape plan would be more useful.   
  
“Answer the question!” April snarls dramatically as she yanks a tuft of Ben’s hair. Andy points at April commandingly.   
  
“Janet Snakehole, let go of the man’s hair,” he orders, putting on his sunglasses to boost his authority.   
  
“ _Never!”_ she hisses at her boyfriend. The dedication that April has in portraying Janet Snakehole rivals much of the talent of the Pawnee Theatrical Society. Despite the death grip she has on Ben’s hair, Ben is reasonably indifferent about the whole situation. Aside from his resignation that no preparation will be enough, he’s been through these exercises countless times. It doesn’t faze him anymore.   
  
“Ben, answer the question, this could turn ugly,” Chris says nervously. Every single time Chris gets far too caught up in the training, and each time Chris is the one urging Ben to answer the question out of legitimate fear for their safety. This is in spite of the fact that the Parks department is probably the least dangerous group of individuals within City Hall. The enemies that Chris faces every single day as a normal part of his job are far more intimidating than his trusty employees.    
  
“Chris is right. We’re only trying to help you guys,” Jerry points out gently. Jerry would prefer that they spend more time on the actual content of the presentation that Chris and Ben have to give, but that idea was shot down almost unanimously.   
  
“Ben, it’s like you don’t even care! Do you _want_ to die in this meeting? Do you know how dumb you’ll look if you’re the first one to die at the meeting? Like, _beyond_ dumb.” Tom is in charge of the training matters surrounding self-esteem. Ben shrugs.   
  
“Look, guys, we know what we’re going to say. That doesn’t change with the circumstances. We are giving this presentation to the auditors, and all we need to focus on is making sure that they see how well we’ve been doing. None of this will help.” Ben stands up, ready to walk out. The presentation is the next morning; he figures the best he can do is to try and get some rest.   
  
“Sit your ass down, Wyatt!” Donna suddenly snaps, and Ben is so surprised that he obeys. Her fellow co-workers sense that she has a new line of interrogation to open, and they grant her the floor. She starts pacing around the room with a very deliberate pace.  
  
“Chris, we’re done with you. You’ve passed the training with flying colours. I just have a few more questions for Ben.” Chris nods understandingly, and moves his seat to the perimeter of the room so it’s just Ben and Donna. For the first time that afternoon, Ben’s starting to feel a little wary.  
  
Donna takes a chair and sits on it backwards, increasing the credibility of her bad cop impersonation. Ben waits for the barrage of insults that he suspects is about to be thrown at him, but Donna takes a completely different path.   
  
“I talked to Ann Perkins yesterday.” _Oh, no._ This is about to get personal. Ben tries to hide his worry by choosing a corner of the room to stare at defiantly.   
  
“Ann told me that you’ve taken somewhat of an interest in one of the auditors. A Miss…Leslie Knope?” _Don’t look at her. Keep staring at the wall. Don’t let her break you._ Donna’s found Ben’s weakness, but to let her know that would be foolish.   
  
“She’s gonna be there tomorrow. We all know this. She’s going to be watching you. Paying attention to what you’re saying. Taking notes, making…judgments.” Ben is hoping that no-one is noticing the beads of sweat that are starting to break across his forehead. Donna has latched onto the real reason why he’s so convinced the meeting’s going to be a disaster. Given the circumstances surrounding City Hall and its inherent troubles, it doesn’t matter what the final outcome of the meeting is. The meeting is going to be a game-changer, and Leslie and Ron are likely to have their opinions of Pawnee changed forever. Donna hops up from her chair as quickly as she sat down and walks behind Ben, leaning over so that she can whisper menacingly in his ear.   
  
“I want you to imagine you’re up there, giving your presentation. You look out into the audience. There are the directors of other departments, you don’t care about them. The mayor’s there; he’s a pushover. No, what _you’re_ focused on is the woman in the front row. You and Chris have prepared this amazing presentation, it’s going amazingly – you look out to that spot in the front row. Leslie is smiling at you, nodding encouragingly!” Even the thought makes Ben’s heart skip a beat; he closes his eyes and allows himself a small smile at the thought. That would be the best case scenario. He wants to make a good, lasting impression. To finally shake the title of Benjy Bummer for good.   
  
“But wait!” Donna cries; Ben nearly falls off his seat in fright, “it’s not over yet! The Events team is after you! And what do they do? They combine forces with the _librarians._ ” There’s a low murmur throughout the room as they express their distress for such a force; the worst part is that they’ve been known to work together on multiple occasions. It’s a completely plausible scenario.   
  
“You’re not prepared for a joint attack. They launch a full-on tactical assault to completely wreck the reputation of the Parks department! All your hard-work, for nothing! _NOTHING!”_ Donna shouts for emphasis. There’s no hiding Ben’s nervous sweats now. She swoops back down so that their faces are level and lowers her voice again.  
  
“You look back out to that spot where Leslie’s sitting. And after the way that the Parks department has been brutalised, she’s shaking her head. She’s not mad, Ben. She’s just disappointed.”   
  
“No,” Ben chokes out before he can stop himself. He can’t let that happen. He _won’t._ There are smiles from around the room; Donna’s found his weakness. She doesn’t let her persona drop. There’s one thing that needs to be hammered home before she’ll let him go.   
   
“Then what are you going to do tomorrow _?!_ How are _you_ going to make damn sure that _that doesn’t happen_?!” Donna’s bad cop has now become the most efficient officer in the force.   
  
“ _I’m going to fight.”_ The answer bubbles up from Ben naturally. He will not let them be pushed over. Especially when there’s an audience. Donna smiles triumphantly, and puts her hand on Ben’s shoulder proudly.   
  
“You’re ready.”   
  


* * *

  
  
It’s those last two words from Donna that Ben keeps repeating to himself as he and Chris enter the chamber where the meeting is being held. As he enters, he scans the room. All the usual suspects are there; police, firefighters, public works, education, the mayor’s son?! He lets his gaze completely skip over the people he’d rather not think about until it reaches Leslie. She notices him entering and gives him a happy wave. _It’s going to be fine._ But he glances to her right, and all his self-doubt lurches right back. Ann Perkins is seated right to Leslie. _What is she doing here?!_ The meeting was meant to have a strictly controlled guest list, but it looks to be unravelling already. It starts to occur to Ben how much of an audience he has in this room. Whatever he says and does in this room could make him or break him. And there’s no escape. Joan Callamezzo has even somehow managed to sweet-talk her way into this meeting. The town is guaranteed to know about anything that goes wrong on this room. There’s no way out.   
  
“Alright, everyone, I call this meeting to order!” Bradley hollers to the room to get the stragglers into their seats. Apparently he has taken it into his stride to act as the default mayor. Ben’s barely listening. He has bigger things to worry about. If his stomach doesn’t calm down by the time he and Chris have to get up to speak, then the next nickname branded into the town’s psyche will be Benjy the Barfer. He can’t let that happen. But if knew _why_ Ann was there, he would no longer be nervous. He would be angry.  An anger that would propel him through the meeting to victory. But he doesn't know. Not yet, anyway. There's no telling what's about to happen.   
  
The only thing that can be guaranteed about this meeting is that it will go down in Pawnee history.


	9. Chapter 9

Amongst all the feelings swirling around Ben's brain, one of his most prominent is a feeling of sorrow for Ron, Leslie and Ann. They have absolutely no idea as to what they are about to encounter. To be perfectly fair, no-one in the room _really_ has an idea has to how this meeting is to play out, but most people have a vague idea. Each of the representatives in the room are preparing in their own ways; knuckle-cracks can be heard, the National Guard are on standby, and Chris and Ben are wearing running shoes to ensure a quick evacuation should it be required.   
  
Leslie is the first to stand up and address the room. She’s so petite that the podium nearly dwarfs her; she perches on her tiptoes and gives the room a wide grin.  
  
“Thank you everyone for coming today! Ron and I have felt very welcomed by your town during the time that we’ve been here. I know we’re about to enter the difficult part of our visit, but I have faith that we’ll get through. This is a great town, and I want to remind you all that Ron and I are here to help you, regardless of the outcome of today’s meeting. Ron, do you have anything to add?” She looks to her colleague and beckons him to the podium. Ron fiercely shakes his head. Leslie gestures more insistently for him to join her. With a sigh, Ron slowly stands up and walks up to the podium.   
  
“I have nothing to add,” Ron states, before returning to his seat.   
  
“Okay! Let’s get this party started!”   


* * *

  
  
The presentations have been somewhat petty towards other departments, but people have been civil by Pawnee standards. This civility somehow makes Ben even more nervous, but at least the fire alarms haven’t been pulled. It’s early days, however.   
  
“In conclusion, all of these expenses made by the Fire Department can be justified because the Police are a bunch of incompetent buttheads. Thank you.” A round of lukewarm applause fills the room, and Ben involuntarily flinches as the fire chief steps down and walks past him back to his seat.   
  
“Thank you, Al. Next up, I believe we have Tammy Traeger, from Pawnee Public Library!”  
  
Tammy slinks her way up to the podium and adjusts her dress, pulling it downwards to reveal more of her cleavage. Before she starts her presentation, she tosses her hair and gives Chris a wink.  
  
“Hi, Chris,” she titters, fluttering him a little wave. Ben can feel Chris stiffen beside him. With two words, Chris is already beginning to crumble. Tammy knows exactly the effect she has on her ex-husband, and she enjoys the power she has over him.   
  
“Come on, Chris, we prepared for this. Remember your training,” Ben urges his friend. Chris nods, and he starts counting backwards from 1000 in Spanish under his breath to keep his calm.   
  
“The library recently had its budget thrown _completely_ off when a certain SOMEBODY named BEN WYATT - ” Tammy flings an accusatory finger at Ben in case there is any doubt as to who Ben is “- completely RUINED a VERY EXPENSIVE piece of library property! But thanks to the insurance payout, the library has been able to continue with its very efficient and frugal practices. We would recommend no change to the library budget, unless it were to reward all of my hard-working and dedicated staff.” _Dedicated to ruining people’s lives, yes._ Ben doesn’t clap as Tammy returns to her seat. He’s too busy anticipating what Kristen has cooked up for her presentation. She has brought along Curtis, who is carrying stacks and stacks of documents. The papers are either filled with information designed to pull down the Parks department, or for purely theatrical purposes to begin the paper-throwing part of the meeting. Unnoticed by Ben, Ann has also straightened up in her seat; her reason for attending the meeting is about to occur.   
  
  
Kristen and Curtis take their place behind the podium. Curtis sets up their PowerPoint presentation, and hands Leslie and Ron binders. Ben feels a twinge of annoyance. Why didn’t he think to prepare binders?! Leslie _loves_ binders! It also provides the potential to distract Leslie and Ron from what they are saying with flashy misdirection. The Events department is extremely experienced at that. And today, they continue to succeed.  
  
“The Events department is Pawnee’s newest division. It used to be a part of Parks and Recreation, before the decision was made to split off and form a more specialised team with some of Pawnee’s brightest and most innovative individuals.” Ben rolls his eyes. She’s completely glossing over the near civil war that lead to the split, but such an embellishment of the facts is to be expected. The next few minutes of their presentation covers all the things they’ve done and the economic benefit they have brought to the town. Ben is on the edge of his seat, ready for the attack that is _bound_ to arrive. It’s killing him not knowing what shape this will take.   
  
“But it would be false to say that our run has been completely smooth sailing. The Events team has faced many clashes and struggles with other departments over the allocation of funds and the use of our resources.” This is all true. But to hear Kristen _admit_ such a thing is baffling. There has to be angle somewhere. Ben’s getting more and more anxious; he almost wants to shout “ _Out with it!”_ because he knows that he’ll be forced to defend himself and the all of the choices of the Parks department sooner or later.   
  
“It’s also important to note that we still do not have complete autonomy over our department. Much of our financial allocations and responsibilities are still tied up with the Parks and Recreation department.” _What?!_ This has to be a lie. They’ve been completely separate for a long time. The whole basis of their split was so that they didn’t ever have to interact with each other ever again. It doesn’t necessarily work like that in practice, but as Tom Haverford puts it “whatever, it’s close enough.” Maybe not quite close enough. The next slide of the presentation is a picture of a contract and even without looking at it closely, Ben’s heart is sinking. He turns to Chris, who is staring at Kristen in horror.  
  
“Did you _read_ the contract?” he whispers desperately.   
  
“Ben, this is very, _very_ bad,” Chris whispers back. Kristen smirks in their direction; she’s elicited the precise reaction she had been hoping for from Chris and Ben.   
  
“This provision here states that any event held in conjunction with another department at city-owned venues fall under the jurisdiction of the Parks and Recreation department. As such, the Events team’s financials are in tip-top shape; but following the Secret Policeman’s Ball, the ‘Get it Out of Your System Fire Festival’ and the Librarians of the Year Awards to name a few, I’m afraid I don’t think we can say the same for the Parks department. Their lack of foresight has meant that their burgeoning debt is intertwined with almost all the departments within City Hall.” _She did this deliberately!_ All of Ben and Chris’ hard work to keep their department as close to budget as possible has all been ruined. And they are completely blindsided by this revelation. The rest of the room is buzzing with excitement; what’s the retaliation likely to be? Is this where the meeting goes Roman?   
  
If Kristen wants to play, Ben will call her bluff. He stands up and walks to the podium. Chris is still rooted to his seat, essentially rendered useless. He suspects that Joan Callamezzo will be frothing at the mouth for a juicy scandal to run with.   
  
“Okay, then. You’ve made sure that the debt that you’ve left with us, has poisoned every single department in this town. Given your _superior_ financial expertise, what would you propose we do?” His voice is sarcastic, but it’s only to mask the absolute fury he’s experiencing.   
  
“Well, Benjy, I think that your department has lacked the competence to acknowledge your responsibilities to this city. As the Parks department has been slowly running this town’s budget to the ground, I think it would only be fair if you were the ones to clean it up.” There are a few applauds around the room in agreement with Kristen. Half of the success of her team has been founded on making Ben look bad. But it has to stop. Ben won’t let her define him anymore.   
  
“In that case, seeing as Events has been so involved with all the other parts of City Hall and threatened the town’s budget, I suggest we shut the city down while we fix this.” There are gasps as people start buzzing angrily, and standing up to protest. But there’s no way that Ben will let them continue to ruin him, to ruin the _town_ , without being in control. Kristen’s smile widens; he has played right into her trap.  
  
“Let it be known that Benjy Bummer wants to shut the town down!” she shouts, and the room breaks into pandemonium; shirts are being ripped off, chants are starting. It’s turning into chaos. Amongst it all, Leslie looks completely bewildered over the mayhem surrounding her. Ron’s expression hasn’t changed, but he lets out the smallest little “hmph.” Chris lunges off his seat, and Ben tries to catch him before he hurts himself (despite Chris’ strength, he is physically incapable of harming another human being. Any attempts to do so just end up with Chris curled up in the fetal position, sobbing uncontrollably).   
  
  
“SPY!” Ann yells, standing up suddenly and pointing at Kristen. She had meant to be more articulate, but after what has just happened, she’s a little thrown. The room quietens somewhat; Ann’s cry has them intrigued for the next chapter of revelations in this meeting. _A spy?!_ It’s about to get even more interesting. Kristen hushes the room down, and turns to Ann, looking more like Cruella DeVille than ever.   
  
“Ah, Miss…Hodgins, was it?” Kristen asks sweetly.   
  
“ _Perkins._ Ann Perkins.” Ann replies defiantly.   
  
“I don’t care. Miss Watkins, do you have something to share with the room?” She gestures for Ann to join her at the podium. Ann hesitates, but makes her way to the podium. She has never been more terrified in her life, but she reminds herself that this is for the greater good.   
  
“ _You’re a spy for Eagleton!_ ” Ann shouts again, this time her voice booming over the microphone.   
  
“You think _I’m_ an Eagleton spy? Me? A former Miss Pawnee? Oh, my dear. Why don’t you ask your little friend Benjy where he’s from? Yes, you heard me correctly. Ben Wyatt was born in Eagleton! He’s the real spy!” Joan Callamezzo has her story. She’s first out the door to break her exclusive to the masses. And that’s when Ben knows that it’s all over. This time, he’s the one who gives Chris a horrified look.  
  
“Ben, _run.”_ The training given to him by his co-workers has come in handy. He spots the nearest fire exit and makes a break for it. The alarmed door starts screeching at his exit, but you can barely hear it over the furore in the chamber. He runs as fast as he can until he’s back home. Ben is of course not a spy, but the citizens of Pawnee don’t care if a story is false as long as it’s partly true. Technically, yes, Ben was born in Eagleton, but he’s spent more time trying to make Pawnee better than most Pawnee citizens. More time than Kristen Holt, even.   
  
Things are going to be a whole lot more difficult now. Anything he says and does is bound to be scrutinised and needlessly overanalysed from now on. At least when he shut down the Summer Snowman Festival, the only reputation he had was a killjoy. This, however, is far more damaging. After about an hour of sitting on his couch wondering what the hell to do next, there is a knock at his door.   
  
“If you’re the press, I have no comment for you.” It doesn’t matter what he says, it will no doubt be taken out of context anyway.   
  
“Ben, it’s us!” Ann’s muffled voice calls from the door. Ben leaps up to open it, and he’s surprised to see almost everyone: Chris, Ann, Leslie, Jerry, Donna, April, Andy and Tom. All there, on his side. Ann flings her arms around Ben the second he opens the door.   
  
“Ben, I’m so, so sorry!” she’s almost in tears; her plan failed spectacularly, and now her best friend is the town outcast. Ben pats her on the back comfortingly. It’s not really her fault. Ben knows that Kristen would have used this fact against him at some point, even if Ann gave her the perfect opportunity to do so.   
  
“Sorry we took so long; the National Guard set up a perimeter around City Hall, and we had to talk our way out.” Donna informs him, taking her jacket off and resting it over the back of a chair. Everyone takes a seat in Ben’s living room, except for Leslie, who is pacing about the room with her brow furrowed.   
  
“This town is in more trouble than we first thought. Looks like we might have to stay here longer if we’re gonna fix this.” The fact that Leslie isn’t decrying him as a spy is encouraging. It makes him feel a lot better about this mess. But Leslie is talking about a ‘we’, when her colleague is no-where to be seen.  
  
“Uh…where’s Ron?” Ben asks, glancing around the room. Leslie looks at him with troubled eyes, before shaking her head wordlessly. Chris is the one to deliver the grave news.   
  
“We think Tammy got to him. We lost him in all the confusion.” They’ve never had a possible kidnapping at a town meeting before. This is a new one for the books.   
  
“He’s probably being tortured as we speak,” April speculates. Leslie lets out an anguished cry. _I have to fix this_ , Ben thinks to himself. Trouble seems to follow him wherever he goes. He owes it to the town, even if the town doesn’t want his help.   
  
“The National Guard have suspended all government activity anyway, so we’re not to go into work tomorrow,” Chris tells Ben. Ben laughs colourlessly; he knows that the town won’t see it like that, especially if Joan Callamezzo has her way.   
  
“You know what? That’s okay. Gives us more time to form a plan, and to find Ron.” Not that he has a clue where to go from here, but he knows now that Ann has information and sources that might be able to come in handy. Maybe he’ll finally get his day off, as well. But his optimistic thoughts are quashed when Tom reads the latest news from his phone.  
  
“Boss, the headlines are in,” he announces grimly, handing Ben his phone. For a few seconds Ben prays that the media might let him off easy this time. But alas, this is not the case. In fact, he has a new nickname.   
  
**_BENJY BETRAYER: THE EAGLETON SPY WHO SHUT DOWN OUR CITY_** _._  


 


	10. Chapter 10

It’s nearing sundown, and with it the sun is setting on any hopes of a peaceful resolution to the day. The room is subdued and the air is thick with a sense of trepidation.  There is not a single person in the room who doesn’t have a horrifying tale or myth about Tammy Traeger.  Almost everyone gathered in Ben’s living room have organised into a circle; Ben would have liked to assume it’s for comfort, but he knows how much his co-workers like to conspire and make things seem more dramatic than they actually are. Of course, he doesn’t want to admit that his co-workers might be acting a little too dramatically when there’s innocent people missing. Ann’s part of the circle, too; she listens with an awed horror as everyone divulges their favourite tales about the town’s senior librarian. The stories fuel the room’s grim atmosphere.   
  
“I heard she once wrestled three alligators, a bear and a tiger to the death.” An unverified story. The only witnesses to the alleged scenario had all had too much to drink (including near-lethal dosages of a beverage that Tom once tried to convince his co-workers to buy from him – a drink colloquially known as Death Sap). This story pops up from time to time, and depending on who you hear it from, the facts vary from the more reasonable to the downright outrageous. Ben’s more reliable sources claim that the animals in the story are actually just players and supporters from various Pawnee sports teams of the same names. The death part is definitely false (well, _hopefully_ false!). But Ben certainly doesn’t put it past Tammy Traeger to be able to wrestle five large beings and survive. It’s a miracle that Chris got out of his marriage alive.   
  
“Someone once told me that they do witchcraft in the library basement, where they practice voodoo on the people they don’t like.” Once again, there is no evidence either way to quash or confirm this rumour. It’s yet another of April’s allegations that Ben never knows whether to take seriously or not. The citizens of Pawnee are no strangers to the occult – just ask any member of the Wamapoke Tribe. Voodoo does sound a _little_ too farfetched though, even for the librarians of Pawnee.   
  
“I know for a fact that she deliberately ignores all calls from her mother.” Everyone who is huddled in the circle of whispers turns to look at Jerry with extremely unimpressed looks on their faces.   
  
“C’mon, Jerry, don’t you have anything better than that?” Tom asks, shaking his head in disappointment. It is perhaps the only claim against Tammy Traeger that can be verified, however; everything else is simply hearsay.   
  
Leslie Knope, however, is focused on the claim tying Ben to Eagleton – as well as Ann’s intel that Ben has been wrongly villainized.  Leslie Knope _knew_ that there was a reason why Eagleton had given her the heebie-jeebies. Ron had put it down to her over-active imagination, but she had maintained that there was something not right with the people of that town. She’s an auditor for goodness sake, she’s used to people hating her and the job that she’s been sent to do. She knows that it’s inevitable that the people of Pawnee will grow to despise her and Ron for whatever cuts that they might have to make. Even Leslie is used to the pain of having to shut down services that would otherwise provide a lot of joy and use to the citizens of the town that she’s reviewing. She had told her fiancé Mark about her suspicious feelings surrounding Eagleton, but he had blown her off.  
  
“Honey, you’re upset that everyone is _nice_ to you for once?! I think you’re too stressed out. Maybe the people in that town are actually smart enough to realise that you’re trying to help them?” Mark’s trying to make her feel better, but sometimes he just _doesn’t get it._  
  
  
 “It’s not right. No-one’s that happy about budget cuts. Not that we had to cut many budgets. Their books are close to impeccable. It’s almost suspicious. Why aren’t they more angry?!” she had insisted. She loves Mark, but sometimes he doesn’t understand the stresses of her job. He gets to draw buildings all day. It’s up to people like _her_ to have to make the hard decision as to whether or not such buildings are actually financially viable.   
  
Maybe it’s because Eagleton have been planning to pin it all on Pawnee in the first place. Leslie is aware the close relationship that Pawnee and Eagleton have had in the past. That’s what makes it messier (and more intriguing for outsiders such as herself!).   
  
She knows that the citizens of Pawnee would hate her and Ron if it weren’t for the fact that Pawnee already has a public enemy in the body of Ben Wyatt. Leslie Knope has a thick skin and she’s not used to having someone else be the scapegoat for all the town’s troubles. Even with her extensive research into the ins and outs of Pawnee, the level of vitriol directed at Ben Wyatt is at levels that she has never witnessed before. The reason why Leslie has shown such a favourable impression for Pawnee is because everyone is SO opinionated. There’s nothing worse to her than apathy.   
  
But maybe she wished too hard for a little excitement to her job. Ron’s disappearance isn’t something that she anticipated in her contingency plans. Civil unrest, yes, but outright kidnapping and character assassination of public servants is perhaps a step too far. As well as the new headlines declaring Ben as public enemy number one, the governor of Indiana declared a state of emergency in Pawnee. As a result, the entire town is essentially in lockdown, with all unnecessary travel banned. There are still masses of people who have congregated outside City Hall however, calling for Ben’s head to be delivered straight to them. They’re keeping the National Guard pretty busy.   
  
Ben seems to be taking it in his stride. He seems far too used to media onslaughts against him. She read up on the events of the Summer Snowman Festival, and knows why the entire town seems to hate him. It’s almost sad, in a way. The resignation on his face is well-practiced – as though he _expected_ for something like this to happen.   
  
“I’m so sorry that this had to happen, Leslie,” he apologizes. This makes Leslie feel even worse.   
  
“ _No._ This isn’t your fault. This the fault of that vile woman. We’re going to fix this, and clear your name. Don’t you worry,” Leslie says determinedly.   
  
Leslie was upset about Ron’s disappearance, but she has remembered how resilient the man is. Very little ruffles him. If anyone were to be kidnapped by rogue librarians, she would hope it would be Ron. Of course, if she knew the true power of Tammy Traeger, she would know that it’s dangerous to let _anyone,_ even Ron, to succumb to her wrath.   
  
Her phone starts ringing again; the state government will no doubt have to declare her and Ron to be officially missing if Mark still can’t get in touch with her. She has been ignoring her phone all afternoon; it is without even looking at it that Leslie presses the silence button and slides it in her jacket pocket.   
  
“At least we don’t have to go to work tomorrow.” Ben’s comment is no consolation for either of them, however. He’s standing by the window, peering out through a slit in the curtains. The light coming in from the window shrouds half of his face in shadow. It makes him look particularly troubled; but given the circumstances, it’s certainly understandable.   
  
“What’s happening out there? Is it brutal?” Leslie asks in a low voice. She’s trying to sound sombre, but she can’t hide the fact that she’s almost exhilarated by the situation. Ben notices this and he can’t help but smile at her excitement. She responds with a slightly sheepish smile of her own.   
  
“I can’t see many out on the streets, but the National Guard is still patrolling the area,” Ben informs her, with another peek out the window.    
  
“Drat,” she curses, turning away from Ben to resume a steady pace around the room. As Leslie circles the living room, her phone starts ringing again. But she’s so locked in a train of thought that Ben’s not even sure if she has noticed it ringing.    
  
Although Ben is taking the situation with a relatively high level of calmness, he realises that not everyone feels the same way. He’s most concerned about Chris.  The anecdotes about his ex-wife and the events of the day seemed to have finally sunk in with Chris, and he’s not taking it well. He is grinning broadly and nodding enthusiastically. It would be normal if it weren’t for the fact that he’s grinning at a lamp and has been nodding non-stop for roughly seven minutes.   
  
“Ann,” Ben calls out softly to his friend. She glances up, and he nods at Chris. Ann immediately understands his gesture, and she gets up and reseats herself next to Chris to try and soothe his state of shock. Leslie snaps out of her contemplation and joins Ben again at the window.    
  
“We need to do something tonight. I can’t think, knowing that he might be out there, in the cold. Being tortured by those fascists of fiction.” Ben’s a _little_ taken-aback by her statement, but he shakes it off. At least she’s a willing passenger on the bandwagon of those opposed to the librarians.   
  
“Chris is probably our best chance of finding out where Tammy is holding Ron. We need him to tell us where she lives so we can start there.” The usual methods of sourcing one’s place of residence do not work with Tammy Traeger. She is remarkably untraceable, and Ben doesn’t willingly fraternise with people who would be happy to divulge such information. Not to mention that it would arouse even more suspicion if ‘Benjy the Betrayer’ was seen to be asking questions about where people live. Few are likely to go near him, and the only people who do are currently sitting in his living room.   
  
  
_RING RING!_  The phone pierces the uncomfortable disquiet. Several people let out screams of fright, and not even Ben’s sure whether he should answer his own phone. Thankfully, he doesn’t need to make the decision; Donna has him covered.   
  
“I’ve got this,” she volunteers bravely. Donna gets up and walks over to the phone to pick it up. The ringing noise is even shriller in the waning sunlight, and everyone holds their breath as Donna answers it.      
  
“Speak,” she orders to the person on the other end. There’s a few seconds where everyone’s watching Donna’s face in curiosity, trying to determine the caller. Donna doesn’t give them a clue until she realises who’s on the other end.   
  
“Oh, cut the crap, Pikitis, I know it’s you!” Donna hangs up the phone in disgust. She returns to her seat, shaking her head. It was nothing more than one of the multiple prank calls Ben receives per day. It’s to be expected that the amount will increase in the following days.  Ann takes the break in conversation to take a sidebar with Ben, joining him and Leslie at the window.   
  
  
  
“Ben, I think I need to take Chris to the hospital. He’s not in a good way.” Ann gives Ben a meaningful look, and Ben knows that this is just a front. It gives them a legitimate reason to leave Ben’s house and travel through Pawnee without attracting too much unwanted attention. An idea occurs to Ben, and he goes to the kitchen and pulls out a container from his freezer. He returns to Ann in the living room and hands it to her.   
  
  
“Be careful,” he says to her quietly, resting a hand on her shoulder. Ann doesn’t even look at the contents of the container; she knows what’s inside.   
  
“How many are in here?”   
  
“Four. If you come across a checkpoint, it should be enough to get them to look the other way for a while.”   
  
Leslie is utterly bewildered by this exchange; she darts her head back and forth between Ben and Ann, trying to understand what’s going on. It _looks_ like there might be chocolate chip pancakes inside (and Leslie is rarely wrong when it comes to identifying pancakes), but the way that Ann and Ben are talking about them makes it sound like Ann may need them as bribes. There may be a few things about Pawnee that Leslie has yet to figure out. Including this backwater but innovative alternative currency.   
  
“We’ll stay on the low road. The shortcut through Lot 48 should be unpoliced.”  
  
“Take Andy with you,” Ben suggests; Andy has donned his sunglasses and has been itching for some action for a couple of hours now. It’s clear that he’ll be more than willing to join them on a little adventure.   
  
“Andy?”  
  
“Yes, boss!” Andy practically leaps over the couch to stand to attention in front of Ben. In the process, he accidentally kicks Jerry in the side, who lets out a painful wheeze.   
  
“Can you go with Chris and Ann to the hospital? It’ll be safer if there’s three of you.”  Not only does Andy serve as a brilliant escort for both security and morale, he also is the most qualified person in the room to provide a distraction if needed. The pancakes should be sufficient to see them through any difficult situation that might crop up, but they can’t take any chances. Ann nods in agreement as she helps Chris over to the door.

  
  
“Chris, just a sec – where does Tammy live?” Ben’s trying to be as tactful as possible. He doesn’t want to antagonise Chris, but it’s a necessary question.   
  
“Do you know my house on the outskirts of town?”   
  
“Of course.” It’s common knowledge that Chris runs the several miles into town every day, rain or shine. Even the postal officers in Pawnee marvel at his commitment to enduring all four seasons. It’s a rather fitting property for the head of Parks and Recreation – it’s a huge chunk of land hidden by a mass expanse of wooded forest. The property boasts a comfortable three-bedroomed house, a double garage, and Chris’ own private obstacle course. The final fixture is a tiny little guest house that lies almost forgotten at the north-east corner of the property. The guest house, however, is presumed to be haunted and is barely habitable. Chris has always referred to it as ‘the shack’.   
  
“She lives there.”  
  
“Wait – _what?!_ ” Ben does a double-take.   
  
“In the divorce, she won most of my money, my car and my house. As a result, I was evicted.”   
  
“Then where do you live?!” Ann asks incredulously. It’s known even to the staff at her work about the inhuman running ability of Chris Traeger. Most of her co-workers are weirded out by it, but she finds it admirable.   
  
“I live in the shack,” Chris confirms humbly. Ann feels a horrible pang of sorrow for the man. She also knows that with every second that they wait, it will get more and more dangerous for them to leave.   
  
“We better go before it gets too dark,” Ann urges; she’s hoping her colleague who’s a therapist might still be available for an emergency consultation. There’s no way Chris will be able to return home under the circumstances. Preferably ever. Tammy Trager seems more than a little terrifying. The numerous tales and rumours have done little to inspire any confidence in Ann about Tammy’s trustworthiness. Isolation is probably the safest option for Chris. Plus, it minimizes the chances of any more kidnappings.  Ann’s watched enough Law and Order, she knows how it all goes down. It’s always the ex-wife.   
  
  
“Dude, are you like….scared of the dark? Do you need a nightlight? How do you know when it’s morning if you’re too scared to look outside?” _Definitely_ time to go. Andy is still marvelling over Chris’ non-existent fear of the dark as Ann gently nudges the both of them out the door. Back in the living room, April is grinning as though Christmas has come early. She’s going to take great advantage of this (false) revelation.   
  
  
“That’s horrible, I couldn’t imagine living on the same property as your ex,” Leslie sighs sympathetically. Half the time she doesn’t even live in the same place as her future husband, but she doesn’t want to dwell on that matter.   
  
  
“We need to go there.” The news about how much Tammy actually screwed over Chris has Ben angry, and he’s eager to act on it. Tammy is probably at home, celebrating with the Events team over the destruction of the tiny ounce of a positive reputation that Ben might have had. Leslie is excited by the prospect of action, and she is immediately on board. Her beaming smile is a fervent approval of his suggestion. Her smile is dangerous. Normally, in such a situation where Ben is about to make a rash decision based on anger, the approval of some of his other friends is what makes him realise that it’s a bad idea. But for some reason, all Leslie’s smile does is motivate him to succeed and follow through with his whim.   
  
“I’m coming with you. Let’s do this.” It has been decided. Ben and Leslie will make their way to the Traeger Estate and stick it to the true evil of the town. Not all of his logical thought has been tossed out the window, however. It has occurred to him that he is leaving behind four undoubtedly restless Parks employees in his absence. It would be unwise for him to just leave them to their own accord. Ben first secures his keys, and then approaches the four left in the living room.   
  
  
“Okay, I need you guys to stay here in case things go wrong. But noparties. Do you hear me?” Ben instructs them warningly. The last thing he needs is to draw even more attention to himself and his home. He knows how much Tom likes to throw parties, especially when he doesn’t have to pay for the liquor. It’s not that he doesn’t _trust_ them, but it’s been a long day, and Ben’s liquor cabinet will likely prove tempting.   
  
“Loud and clear. We’ll have the biggest party the town’s ever seen,” April deadpans. Ben’s hand is on the door handle, and her comment makes him turn around.    
  
“ _No…_ ” Ben knows she’s winding him up, but he takes the bait anyway. “ _No_ parties.”   
  
“You’re not my real dad,” April replies sardonically. He wants to retort, but experience has taught him that it’s a battle he’ll never win. The street is currently empty, which means that Leslie and Ben can slip away in Ben’s car before potentially being pulled over by the National Guard, or some of Pawnee’s most loyal vigilantes. 

* * *

 

 

The several minutes of driving is enough to make Ben’s anger start to dissipate and his uncertainty creep back in. It doesn’t help that Leslie is sitting next to him in the passenger seat – she adds a layer of pressure that he could do without. He’s beginning to feel more woeful and wary about the situation that he’s literally propelling the pair of them into. It’s as though Leslie can feel his apprehension, because she asks the exact question that Ben’s been wondering himself.   
  
  
“Hey Ben?” Leslie asks softly, as the car glides smoothly through the backstreets of Pawnee. The embargo on travel has actually proved useful for once. The traffic is virtually non-existent, and they are now far away enough from the town centre that there’s very few members of law enforcement to be seen.   
  
“What is it?”  
  
“When we get there, what are we actually going to _do_?” For once, Ben hasn’t actually thought that through. He glances at Leslie briefly. She has her earnest eyes fixed on him, waiting for his answer expectantly.   
  
“I don’t know. I guess I’m going to have to just ask her where he is,” Ben shrugs uncertainly. It’s an anticlimactic solution, one that won’t guarantee any success. Leslie is disappointed in his answer, and she finds it difficult to hide it.  
  
“ _Ask_ her?! And you think she’s just going to tell you?!” Tammy’s ego is large enough that she’ll probably tell them, thinking that they’ll never find Ron anyway. But the explanation falls by the wayside as Ben takes umbrage at Leslie’s tone. Perhaps his anger hasn’t completely disappeared after all.   
  
“Well, do you have a better idea?! Because I’m willing to listen. I really am.” Ben’s sarcasm is born from a place of helplessness and lingering bitterness over the way that things always tend to go wrong for him.   
  
“I just don’t think that winging it is the best idea, you’re making it up as you go along and I think that we should stop for a moment. If we come up with a plan, then it’ll make things so much safer.” Leslie’s suggestion is a reasonable one, but she’s already put Ben on the defence and it’s difficult for him to back down.   
  
“I’ve spent my whole life doing _exactly_ what you just said, and look where that’s got me.” His voice falters back into a glum territory.   
  
“What, so you’re going to just give up?! What if she doesn’t tell you? Are you just going to accept it? Is this the same reason why your department was able to be screwed over?!” Each question in Leslie’s onslaught is everything that Ben has been trying not to ponder too much the whole day. Ben slowly pulls the car over. Half of him wants to jump out and run to Illinois and beyond. The other half wants nothing more than to take out his frustrations on the woman sitting to his right. She has no idea what it’s like for him and Chris – they’re constantly fighting an uphill battle in a town that is governed by corruption and warped priorities. The insinuation that Ben’s throwing in the towel without trying is insulting. To prevent himself from either fleeing or fighting with Leslie, he slumps himself over the steering wheel hopelessly with a heavy sigh.   
  
“What do you think you’re doing?” Leslie demands. Before Ben can even begin to answer, Leslie’s phone rings for an umpteenth time. She lets it ring for several seconds before Ben lifts his head in annoyance. Leslie is staring at him angrily, her bottom lip slightly jutting out in a pout. Under normal circumstances he’d find it endearing, but the only thought in his mind is how she has no justification for being so frustrated with him.   
  
“You should answer that,” Ben tells her in a low voice. Leslie begrudgingly pulls her phone from her pocket, but her expression changes to shock the second that she sees who’s calling.   
  
“Ron! Are you okay?! Where are you?!...oh…I had my phone on silent...” Leslie lies guiltily. She turns away from Ben towards her window. Ben shakes his head. Some of the calls that Leslie has been ignoring all day must have come from her colleague.    
  
“We’re going to go in tomorrow? Absolutely. I will be there at seven-thirty…Ron, where have you _been_ all day?” This is all Ben wants to know, and he starts listening carefully for the answer. But the phone call is already over before he can attempt to eavesdrop properly.   
  
“Okay. I’m not far away. See you soon.” Leslie hangs up her phone, and then proceeds to sit in the car in silence. It’s the second lie that she has told Ron in one phone call. The stationary car isn’t going anywhere.   
  
“Where am I headed, Leslie?” Ben asks tiredly. He’s not in the mood to play guessing games over Ron’s whereabouts. And the quicker he delivers Leslie to the yet undisclosed location, the faster he can return home and pretend that the day never happened.   
  
“I can probably walk from here,” Leslie responds loftily, her hand on the door handle.   
  
“Walk?! To _where_?!” They’re a few miles from the town centre. There’s no way in hell that Ben’s going to let her head back in that direction in the dark, especially given the orders issued by the National Guard. The idea is ludicrous.   
  
“That’s not important,” Leslie replies in a slightly sheepish voice, and Ben catches on immediately.  
  
“He’s been at Tammy’s,” he realises.   _I was fucking right._ Her silence is as good as a confession. Ben bites back the urge to jeer at her with an ‘I told you so!’ as he starts up the car again. He half-expects Leslie to open the door in defiance, but to his surprise she settles back into her seat.   
  
“So, was he _kidnapped_ by Tammy?”   
  
“Nope. He was invited over,” Leslie replies curtly. Ben shakes his head in disbelief.   
  
“So we were doing all that for nothing.” He’s extremely unimpressed with all the unnecessary stress they’ve been put through.   
  
“It wasn’t _nothing,_ we had no idea that he was okay! He could have been dead!” Leslie fires back.   
  
“If you’d just answered your phone, we _would_ have known that he was fine,” Ben points out, eager to prove her wrong. “We just wasted almost an entire day.”  
  
“I don’t like your attitude,” Leslie responds defiantly, crossing her arms and turning to the window. It’s obviously a way of ending the argument without admitting that she’s wrong.  “You really are Benjy Bummer.” The way she emphasises the last word hits a nerve with Ben; it sounds so much worse coming from Leslie’s mouth. He didn’t think that she would be the type to ever use the nickname maliciously. But her words have seared themselves into Ben’s brain. The second they reach the Traeger Estate, the car lurches to a halt. Ben doesn’t even want to look at Leslie.   
  
“Thank you for the ride,” Leslie says stiffly. Ben knows it’s childish, but he deliberately ignores her. She takes offence to his lack of response, and puffs up her chest as she gets out of the car.  
  
“Don’t bother coming into work tomorrow. Your shutdown means that only essential staff will be permitted into City Hall.” He knows what she’s implying. Because of his status as a traitor, they don’t want him anywhere near opportunities where he can help people, help to fix things and make decisions. Basically, his entire job and life’s work. And, apparently, his attitude is too much of a downbuzz for Ron and Leslie and their magical quick-fixes for the town. But that’s fine. If they don’t want him there, then maybe he doesn’t want to be there anyway. Then he doesn’t have to risk running into the people that help make his life a living hell.   
  
“Oh, don’t worry, I wasn’t going to,” Ben snaps back.  
  
“Good.”  
  
_“Good.”_ At least he has the last word.


	11. Chapter 11

The main road between Pawnee and Eagleton is quiet this morning.  Word has spread about yesterday’s implosion at City Hall, and as a result not a single Eagleton resident has ventured in the direction of its rival town. Pawnee residents are also staying off that particular road out of protest against the ‘Benjy the Betrayer’ and the town he has been nefariously linked to. Nevertheless, the National Guard still has soldiers stationed at all of the town’s exits.

Corporal Vincent Marks is nearing the end of a long night’s shift. He stands beside his Humvee, on the verge of dozing off. It’s early morning, but the day is heating up quickly. The horizon shimmers through the heat rising from the concrete.   
  
“Howdy, Mister!” Vince jumps, snapping out of his doze and reaching for his weapon instinctively. But he’s not under attack. It’s just a little girl peering up at him curiously. He sighs with relief, and the little girl giggles, revealing a gap in her two front teeth.   
  
“Is that a real gun?” she asks earnestly.   
  
“…Yes. It’s very dangerous, so only grown-ups can use them.” He silently hopes that what he’s just told the young girl will not get him sued. He wouldn’t put it past the citizens of Pawnee. It’s not exactly an active warzone, but it’s about as unpredictable as one. The little girl gives a big important nod in understanding, her hair ribbon rippling slightly in the breeze.  
  
“Guns can hurt people,” she tells him. Vince doesn’t quite know how to respond to this; he shifts his feet uncomfortably and grips his gun tighter. It’s not that he doesn’t _like_ children, but they make him a little uneasy. Especially when they seemingly turn up out of nowhere.   
  
“How’d you get out here?” There are no other vehicles around that he can see. The road out of town is long and straight, with fields on either side (mainly expansive golf courses to separate the towns as much as possible). He’s stationed on the emptiest stretch of the road. Buildings can be seen in the far distance in both directions; but it still doesn’t explain how this little girl ended up at the checkpoint. She puts her thumb in her mouth shyly and averts her eyes to the ground.   
  
“I can’t find my mommy.” Despite her downcast expression, she explains the problem in a matter-of-fact tone. As if it were perfectly normal for her to be unexpectedly separated from her mother.   
  
“Your mom? Where did you see her last?” He’s trying to figure out if she’s injured. If there’s a car accident nearby, then he needs to alert his superiors immediately. There are no signs of scratches or bruises on her arms or face. Her Mary Janes are in perfect condition; not a single scuff or scratch to be seen. The girl has either not walked very far, or she’s keeping immaculate care of her shoes. She gives an exaggerated shrug, heaving her shoulders up past her ears before dropping them again.    
  
“Well, was she meant to take you to school? Or maybe she went to work?”  This mention of work flips a switch. Suddenly the girl is beaming again. The sudden switch in mood Vince finds slightly disconcerting, but he’s more worried about making sure she’s safe.   
  
“My mommy works at City Hall!” she replies proudly. _City Hall?_ That’s a good starting point. When Vince finishes his shift, he can take her into town and pass her on to people who can help her find her mother. It’ll be the only interesting thing that’s happened to him all night.   
  
“City Hall? Well, sweetheart, when I finish my shift, I’ll bring you back into town and we can find your mom. How does that sound?”  
  
“Yay!” she exclaims, bouncing excitedly on the spot. Even jumping up and down on the gravelly road seemingly does nothing to damage her shoes. Without any direction, she sits herself on the ground right by the Humvee and starts singing softly to herself.  
  
“ _London bridge is falling down, falling down…”_ Her bright and chirpy singing voice nicely fills the silence of the open road. Vince feels a little more at ease. It’ll be a nice end to his shift. He quickly checks his watch to see how much longer he has.   
  
  
  
It’s 7:30am.

 

* * *

 

“ _The city of Pawnee remains in a state of emergency this morning, with officials expecting a second day of riots to occur over the temporarily defunct city services. A small team of people from each department, in addition to the two Indiana state auditors, will be meeting today to restore essential services before the city falls into further ruin. But the question that I am about to pose to you, the audience, is this: where’s Benjy Betrayer? Can this town stay safe from traitors like him? Joan Callamezzo will attempt to answer these questions up next. I’m Perd Hapley.”  
  
_ “Not you too, Perd!” Ann moans, stabbing a spoon into her bowl of yoghurt. The television in the staff room continues to blare unapologetically, reminding her of the disaster from the day before. All staff have been put on alert in anticipation of riots. Nothing happened during the night because a significant proportion of Pawnee’s population is wary of the dark. But now that it’s daylight again, anything goes. The media are swooping on the situation. Ann’s only hoping that they don’t have the common sense to look up where Ben lives. Harassment from the press is the last thing he needs right now. Ann seems to be alone in her hopes, however.   
  
“What that Ben Wyatt did was basically treason,” one nurse says to another. She sounds so sure of herself, but Ann bets that the woman barely knows what treason even _is._ Not that Ann could explain it properly herself, but she’s 99% sure that Ben’s situation doesn’t even come close. 98% certain.   
  
“I know, right? Do you think that if they find him, he could get the death penalty?” They’re oddly accurate at voicing Ann’s worst fears, and Ann doesn’t appreciate it one bit. Even if it’s extremely unlikely. They don’t know what they’re talking about.

 

“It’s not like he killed anybody!” Ann snaps; the two women jump. They look a little embarrassed at Ann’s outburst, and they start whispering. But judging from the looks they keep shooting Ann, they’re still talking about Ben, _and_ her probably. At least she doesn’t have to hear it. Her day is going to be bad enough as it is. With all the riots and closures, the citizens of Pawnee are likely to get themselves into a fair bit of trouble. They’re already prone enough to doing stupid things at the best of times. The only thing that’s keeping Ann remotely sane is the thought of her lunch break outside the hospital. She looks at her watch and sighs bitterly.   
  
  
It’s only 8:17am.   
  


* * *

 

 

The safety precautions that the ‘essential’ staff have been instructed to take are bordering on the ridiculous. The meeting room in which they have assembled has obviously not been used for years, possibly decades. Leslie’s a little disoriented from following the convoluted instructions, and she’s not exactly sure she’ll be able to find the way out herself. Thankfully, Ron doesn’t seem to share in her befuddlement over their location. He didn’t pause nor hesitate over the directions, not even to question the necessity of such instructions. Leslie had that covered for the both of them.

 

“This feels like a nuclear bunker.” Leslie’s staring at posters on the discoloured walls with slogans such as ‘RED MEANS DEAD’ and ‘IT’S OKAY TO RAT’. Ron merely grunts in reply; he’s busy heaving the bullet-proof door open. When he finally manages to pull it open, Tammy Traeger is standing on the other side.

 

“That was quite an impressive feat, Mr Swanson,” she says flirtatiously, leaning seductively against the door frame. Over her shoulder, Leslie can see the rest of the staff already present, completely unfazed by the windowless room. Ron nods appreciatively as they follow Tammy into the meeting. Despite the innocence of Tammy regarding Ron’s temporary absence, Leslie still feels wary of her.  It’s hard for Leslie to drop her hard-wired sentiments about a person, and the evening that she spent certain that Tammy was demon-spawn is going to take a little while to shake off.

 

 

Their meeting room is unexpectedly large, and it adds to Leslie’s sense of disorientation as to where exactly she is. It boasts an exceptionally large table in the middle of the room, with the chairs all facing the wall on Leslie’s left. That wall hosts a wide array of screens and maps of varying ages. The very back wall is lined with numerous bunk beds, with enough space for a small door in the far right corner. And a quick glance at the right wall all but confirms Leslie’s suspicions as she observes floor-to-ceiling shelves of hundreds of canned goods, bottled water, gas masks and (most disturbingly) various weapons.  But if no-one else is concerned, then there’s no reason for her to be, either. She slides into her seat and finds herself next to a young girl, who is happily colouring away.

 

 

Major Bradley Gunderson is chairing the meeting; it’s getting a little suspicious that the mayor has yet to even show his face – but given the current circumstances, having a military official in charge is probably the safest option. Also present in the room is several heads of the various departments (including Chris), a few high level police officers and firefighters, and a representative from the National Guard. Most of them have their eyes focused on the wall with the screens. A number of charts and graphs are displayed; Leslie finds them inherently comforting, and she finally feels herself relaxing a little. As bizarre as this little town is, she has a job to do.

 

 

Kristen is delivering an interim status report on the state of the town’s finances to the rest of the room. Leslie makes an effort to focus on what is being addressed, rather than the messenger.

 

“Since the closure of government services, in particular stemming the haemorrhage of city funding from the Parks department, we’ve already saved seven million dollars.”  The news would be music to Leslie’s ears if it weren’t as a result of a particularly extreme measure. Ron doesn’t share in her sentiments, however, he has closed his eyes with a very contented smile on his face. His two favourite things. Spending cuts and government shutdowns.

 

“That’s a lot of money,” the little girl chimes in, not looking up from her colouring. Several people exchange slightly befuddled looks. The young girl’s name nor purpose has been explained, but as neither Major Gunderson nor the National Guard representative look perturbed, no-one voices their confusion.  
  
“We’re going to have to act quickly if we want to restore services to the town- and we have a few ideas about that. The first of which involves borrowing money from Eagleton as an interim measure until we can agree upon a proper budget.”   
  
“Absolutely not,” Chris interjects. “We cannot ask them for money. It will put us in literally the worst position we’ve ever been in with them.” He’s likely dwelling on how further involvement and cooperation with Eagleton will reflect on his department and Ben.   
  
“We don’t have a choice. Unless we get emergency funds from somewhere, we’re not going to have any money for _anything._ Is that what you want? Is this what you and little Benjy Bummer planned right from the beginning? Do you _want_ this town to fall apart?” Kristen cries, slamming her hands dramatically down on the table.   
  
“It sure sounds like he does,” Tammy volunteers. The rest of the room starts to murmur amongst themselves; people are sending dirty looks in Chris’ direction. The growing tension in the room is increasing. Leslie stands up to stop it from escalating into a repeat of what happened the day before.   
  
“Look, everyone – I know there have been some problems in Pawnee, what with debts and misappropriated funds etcetera etcetera -” the last few words feel physically painful coming from Leslie, but there are bigger matters at stake “- but it’s important that you stop blaming each other, and start working together for a common solution. We all want Pawnee to be able to get back on its feet.” Most of the people in the room nod in agreement, much to Leslie’s relief. The little girl still isn’t paying much attention.  
  
“Besides, we don’t want to fight in front of the little girl,” Leslie adds in a stage whisper for good measure.    
  
“Who even is she?” Someone pipes up.  The room starts murmuring again; it seems that no-one has any idea as to the origin of the girl.   
  
“Corporal Marks told us her mother works for City Hall. We assumed that one of you would know her parents.” The National Guard representative looks around the room with a furrowed brow. Everyone just gives him blank looks. No-one seems to know quite what to do, so Leslie steps up to the plate for the first time that morning and leans down to talk to the girl.   
  
“Hey there, um, which part of Pawnee City Hall does your mom work for?” Leslie asks gently. The sooner they solve the mystery, the sooner they can start actually implementing policies and making decisions. The girl is too much of a distraction, and a danger if she hears privileged information.

 

“Not Pawnee, my mommy works in Eagleton!” the girl replies. There’s a stunned silence, and then suddenly-  
  
“OH MY GOD! EVERYBODY, RUN!” The room erupts into pandemonium. People are screaming, some are crying, chairs are being tipped over. The bunker seems to shrink in size now that they’re aware they’re with an outsider. At the same time, it occurs to some that there’s a finite amount of oxygen in the room, and those people start panicking harder. Major Gunderson, for instance, has collapsed into loud, frightened sobs. Chris is one of the few in the room who is still in his chair as he closes his eyes and tries to go to his happy place.   
  
Ron, however, has no time for this nonsense. Whilst everyone else is running around like the world has ended, he stands up, opens the heavy door and picks up the little girl and takes her outside the room. It’s an instant relief. The room hushes as quickly as it erupted, and everyone is left wondering what’s going to happen next.

“That man is braver than any one of us,” Tammy marvels, fanning herself dramatically.   
  
**************************************************  
  
Ron hasn’t had a lot of experience with children, let alone how to transport them. He’s carrying the girl like a surfboard – horizontally around the waist. The girl isn’t at all bothered; she kicks her feet playfully and starts scooping through the air with her arms as though she’s swimming.   
  
“Little girl, you need to go home. This meeting is meant to be private. It is important that you do not talk about what you heard to anyone. Do you understand?”   
  
  
“Yes, sir!” The girl salutes, and starts skipping down the hallway, singing ‘London Bridge is Falling Down’ in a merry voice. She seems to have a better idea as to where to go than Leslie. Whoever the girl is, she seems intelligent. More intelligent than most of the people in the meeting room. When Ron is sure that the girl is out of sight and earshot, he returns back to the meeting room. The sight he returns to borders on pathetic, but he doesn’t say anything as he sits back down. His return has an eerie calming effect on the room; everyone stops screaming and panicking and returns to their seats as if nothing happened. Kristen takes a breath to resume her recommendations – but not before she takes the opportunity to launch another attack against the Parks department.   
  
  
“So, Chris, can you tell us if this little girl has any connection to our resident spy, Benjy Bummer?” The comment makes Leslie feel a little sour. She _really_ doesn’t like Kristen. Kristen gives her the same suspicious feelings that she felt when she and Ron were staying in Eagleton. And if Ann Perkins is right, then Leslie knows why and they shouldn’t be listening to Kristen’s so-called fixes for Pawnee. But it will take a while to figure out what’s going on. At any rate, Leslie decides it’s best for her to keep her head down. For now. Maybe Ben Wyatt will have a little more insight. She makes a mental note to try and talk to him later.

* * *

 

 

 

 

Ben never thought that being a pariah would be so liberating. This is the best thing that’s ever happened to him. Totally. Absolutely wonderful. Now, he doesn’t have to face people he doesn’t like to deal with because they’re currently wishing that he didn’t exist. Fan-fucking-tastic.   
  
And hey, look at all the free time he has now! Ben can finally spend his time on more artistic pursuits. Such as that novel that he always dreamed of writing, and maybe even get better at painting! Never mind the fact that he’s been staring at a blank word document for the better part of an hour and the closest he has to paint is an unopened bottle of mustard.    
  
  
It’s okay. This is the day off he was wanting, right? Sure, Ann had to practically coerce him into taking one, but it’s for the best. Why would he want to work on projects that go unappreciated with people who have no idea what it takes to even run a Parks department? This is good. It’s great.  Ben pulls away from his desk to take a few laboured steps around the room, rubbing his face tiredly.   
  
He didn’t think that he’d feel this _lonely_. The only interaction he’s had with people all day is a text from Ann telling him to avoid all news media for the next little while. That’s the best advice he’s had in a while. Ben doesn’t even want to know what they’re saying about him and what their proposed solutions are. He’ll wait for Chris to give him the run down. It would be unfair of him to bombard Chris with requests for information when he knows Chris will be in severe damage control trying to juggle both the known enemies (Kristen and Tammy) and the threat of the unknowns (Leslie and Ron). Not that he considers Leslie in any way an enemy. Last night was the result of a tired misunderstanding. But she probably doesn’t feel the same way about him.   
  
_I should be down there, dammit._ He just wants a distraction. Ben’s happy to throw himself to the wolves if it means he’s not stuck at home, feeling like a hopeless failure. He doesn’t want to bother the rest of his co-workers who are likely busy with their own lives that don’t revolve around work. Hell, even when they _are_ meant to be working they’ll still concern themselves with their outside lives. They already spent most of yesterday at his home, providing a welcome buzz of activity. Today’s silence is an uncomfortable contrast.   
  
But he’s fine. Totally.   
  
A thought occurs to Ben, and he’s grateful for the idea it gives him. He seats himself back at his desk and pulls up a copy of his resumé. There’s got to be a way that he can list his current job on his resumé without attaching any reputation to it. Hawaii might be hiring. In Hawaii at least, they wouldn’t be so short-sighted as to even attempt such a thing as a Summer Snowman Festival.   
  
  
There’s an unusually loud knock at the door. It’s the kind of door knock that usually comes from people like police officers, or encyclopaedia salespeople. But who on earth would come knocking on such a day unless it was something vital? Slightly concerned, he stands up once again and goes to the door.  
  
  
“Huh?” The armed SWAT team he was expecting isn’t there. Instead, a single young girl stands at his door, peering up at him with a gap-toothed smile. She holds out a bunch of freshly picked wildflowers up to him.   
  
“I picked you some flowers.”   
  
“I, uh…thank you. What are you _doing_ here?” The little girl doesn’t respond, just gives him a big smile and starts skipping down the path, softly singing a tune. Ben strains his ears carefully, and he just makes it out to be a slow version of ‘London Bridge Is Falling Down’. The last he sees of her is the tail end of her red hair ribbon as she turns the corner. When he’s positive that she’s gone, he hastily stuffs the flowers in a bush. It’s not that he doesn’t appreciate the flowers, but at the moment they’re probably better off than him looking after them. Everything he touches seems to turn to shit, and he doesn’t need a bunch of dead flowers on his conscience.

  
Upon closing the door, Ben seats himself back down at his desk and stares discontentedly at his resumé. If anyone looked at it, they’d be impressed at the amount of good work he’s done over the years. Of course, the minute they typed his name into a Google search, they’d find the screeds and screeds of blog posts and self-inflated ‘news’ stories criticising his every move. The Summer Snowman Festival debacle is the biggest story to taint his name. Still, maybe he still has a chance at making a fresh start somewhere else. Somewhere outside of Pawnee, and beyond the scrutiny of the Indiana government.   
  
Ben quickly looks at his watch. It’s 11:53am; if he acts fast enough, he can get everything he needs ready before Ann’s lunch break. She sent him a message earlier on confirming their lunch date.  
  
‘ _Don’t come to the diner. I’m bringing lunch to you.’_  
  
If Ben’s being honest with himself, he’s a little disappointed by Ann’s text message. It’s not that he doesn’t want her company; it’s that he would much prefer her company literally anywhere else than his house. He wants to be beyond Pawnee city limits as soon as possible; before the curfews kick in. If he wants to be ready, he’s going to have to act fast. Ben starts running around his house, picking up a couple of bags and finding the essentials that he’ll have to take with him. Even if he just takes an extended holiday as an escape, he wants to leave as quickly and as quietly as possible.   
  
  
Ann finally arrives at about 1pm, looking more frazzled than he had been expecting. Her stress compounds when she spots the obviously full backpack sitting precariously by the edge of the couch. Most of the things Ben managed to cram into his car, but the backpack is one of the last things he packed.   
  
“Ben, what the hell is that?” she demands, pointing to the backpack. Ben inwardly kicks himself for not having the foresight to hide the damn bag.   
  
“What? Oh, that?” Ben’s not very good at feigning nonchalance, especially when Ann is giving him an extremely unimpressed stare “I was thinking of going on a hike later with Chris.”   
  
“Why do you need jumper leads on a hike?” Ben also forgot to zip his backpack, and some of his emergency supplies are betraying his true intentions.   
  
“Uhhh…” A lightbulb goes off in his head as he quickly thinks of an explanation. “This is my emergency pack for my car. I needed to repack my supplies.”  
  
“Uh-huh. When are you going on this hike?” Something about her tone suggests that she’s going to corroborate his testimony with Chris later on. All the more reason to leave town as quickly as possible.   


“Tomorrow morning, assuming I won’t be needed at work.” The chances of that are slim to none. If there’s one thing that Ben can rely on with Pawnee, it’s bureaucratic incompetence. When you couple that with the fact that he’s not a face that people will want to see around City Hall for a little while, Ben figures it will be a little while before most people figure out that he’s gone. Except for Ann. She’s already looking quite upset, and Ben hopes it’s not because she can read his mind.   
  
“What’s wrong?” Ben asks cautiously.   
  
“You didn’t hear?”  
  
“I’ve been avoiding the press today, like you said.” It would only taunt him anyway. He doesn’t want to have his worst fears confirmed.   
  
“Good.” She holds out a doggie bag of food from JJ’s Diner, which he accepts gratefully. Ben goes into the kitchen and grabs two plates and some cutlery for them both. They eat in silence for a few minutes; it’s almost like old times. Ben can’t remember the last time that they barely exchanged any words. He figures that Ann’s been dealing with too much at the hospital that she doesn’t feel like immediately reliving to Ben over food. And that’s okay. He doesn’t want to broach the subject of what will be his sudden departure.   
  
“So, are you going to tell me what the press is saying about me, or what?” Ben finally breaks the quiet.  It must be bad if Ann hasn’t brought it up. If the press was being far-fetched and ridiculous (as they normally are), they’d be laughing about it. But her silence suggests that something has upset her.   
  
“Nope,” Ann replies defiantly, taking a bite of her BLT sandwich. Ben smiles down at his own food; he appreciates that she doesn’t want to hurt him anymore than she has to.   
  
“Thanks.” He’s going to miss having people like her around. But Ben’s somewhat comforted knowing that Leslie will still be around. She’ll be the friend that Ann needs. And with Ben out of the picture, Ann won’t have to worry about choosing between him and Leslie. He doubts that after his last exchange with Leslie that she’ll be particularly bothered by him leaving. It’ll make it easier for everyone.  Probably.  


* * *

  
“I don’t even know why I’m here in this lame-ass park,” Tom moans as he reluctantly drags himself along behind April and Andy.   
  
“If you don’t want to be here, then you can go home and be boring and die a boring death or something,” April challenges.  
  
“Yeah, are you scared or something?” Andy adds light-heartedly, giving Tom a playful slap on the back.   
  
“Nooooooooooo…but don’t you think we’re going to get in trouble?” Tom says, taking hesitant steps through the muddy grass. Each little squelch chips away a piece of his heart. If he’d known that he’d be spending his afternoon walking through mud, he’d have worn something more outdoorsy. Of course, he doesn’t actually own anything more outdoorsy, so he would have had to refuse. Which would have been an _awful_ shame.   
  
“We work for the Parks department, we’ll just tell them we’re on official business,” April says confidently as they head for one of the park’s restricted areas. Thanks to the city’s shutdown, there are no park rangers or any other staff patrolling the parks in the area.   
  
“When else are we going to find what they’re hiding around here?” Andy says, leaning down to peer through the bushes that surround their path.   
  
“What would they be hiding in _Pawnee_? We’re like the most insignificant town in all of America!” Andy and April exchange smirks, which worries Tom. Instead of answering him, they quicken their pace towards a large fence adorned with warning signs. Tom’s wishing that his curiosity didn’t overtake his common sense, even now as he continues to follow April and Andy instead of heading back to the safety of his car.   
  
Tom’s almost starting enjoy himself on their adventure over the fence when there’s an almighty crash somewhere in the distance that nearly knocks him over in fright.   
  
“What was that??”   


* * *

 

 

It’s 4:21pm.   
  
“Honey, I think it’d be best if you left Pawnee and came home. At least wait until it’s died down and is a little safer.” This quitter attitude is one that Leslie has heard far too much of in the past 36 hours, and it’s really grating on her nerves.   
  
“Oh, you want me to just quit? Is that what you want? For me to fail, and leave this town in even more of a mess than when I arrived?” Leslie’s angry at Mark even though she knows that it’s not his fault. She’s angry at the confusion of the situation, she’s angry at herself for feeling helpless and she’s even a little angry at Pawnee for even existing. Okay, maybe that’s going a little too far. Leslie would _never_ wish for an entire town to disappear. Except _maybe_ Eagleton. There’s something not quite right going on there.   
  
“It wouldn’t be the first time that your decisions have done more harm than good.” Now she’s _definitely_ mad at Mark. How _dare_ he say such a thing?!  
  
“Maybe _you’re_ doing more harm than good,” Leslie snaps; it’s a poor retort, but it gets the message across pretty clearly. She and Ron haven’t even had the chance to _do_ anything!   
  
“If you say so.” Mark’s voice is calm, but all it does is enrage Leslie even more.   
  
  
“I do. And you know what? I’m going to stay here as long as it takes. I am. I-am-I-am-I-am-I-am-I-AM. So screw you.” She presses the ‘End Call’ button on her phone with extreme force. Her termination of their conversation feels satisfying for a few seconds, but the feeling quickly develops into a faint nausea. It is with dejection that she flops onto the bed in her motel, burying her head into the covers. The bed gives a little groan of sympathy. Half of her wants to immediately call Mark back and apologise for being so rude, but the other half wants to wait until _he_ calls _her_ for being so inconsiderate of her life’s work. The only acceptable compromise between the two is to mope on the bed for a little while.   
  
  
“Leslie?” Ron’s knocking at her door.   
  
“Mrmmphhhhh,” she replies in a muffled voice. Ron knocks again with a little more urgency. Leslie picks up a pillow and pulls it over her head.   
  
“Leslie, this is urgent. I will be entering your room slowly, so if you are indecent please take this as a 30 second warning.”   
  
“Come in, Ron,” Leslie grumbles. She’s not in the mood to deal with any more dramas. Keeping her head buried under her pillow is proving to be quite comforting. The door opens and shuts behind her, and she hears Ron step into the room. Leslie can’t see Ron, but she imagines him looking at her impatiently, his thumbs tucked through the belt loops of his pants. His moustache is probably bristling with his annoyance. This isn’t the first time that Ron has had to see Leslie in a buried pillow state as a result of an argument with Mark.    
  
“We have to go. We’ve been asked to return to Indianapolis immediately.” Leslie is so surprised that she lifts her head up to look at Ron.   
  
“What? Why?” Her voice is a little more panicked than she wants. There’s no way she can return to Indianapolis when she _just_ told Mark the exact opposite. She knows that it would be practically suicidal to return to Indianapolis now – that is, if it’s possible to die from someone saying ‘I told you so’. She’s never let that happen, so she can’t confirm whether such a thing is possible. But it probably is, and it’s not a risk that she’s willing to take. Especially not at the hands of her fiancé.   
  
“They want to change our plans for Pawnee, given the current situation.” Ron’s unusually tactful; under normal circumstances he would have gone into detail about how ludicrous the town is for letting a little girl disrupt important city business and nearly send the town into disarray, again.   
  
“Can’t you go back to Indianapolis without me, and I stay here?” Leslie pleads, giving Ron her best puppy dog eyes and pouty mouth. But Ron knows her all too well; such attempts at persuasion do nothing to sway him.   
  
“No, Leslie. We’ve been given a direct order. You’re already on thin ice after the report you wrote on Eagleton.” Leslie had let her better judgement escape her in her report – electing to write about the way the town made her uncomfortable for unknown reasons, and letting it colour her entire report. Their boss had criticised her report as ‘unprofessional’ as she had had absolutely no reason to include such an evaluation when Eagleton’s records are impeccable.   
  
“UggggGGGHHHHHHHHH,” Leslie moans, kicking the bed with both her feet. But she begrudgingly drags herself off the bed and starts packing her things. She’s expecting Ron to leave the room and finish packing, but he continues to stand there in the middle of the room with a stern gaze.   
  
“Did you have another talk with Mark?” He knows the tell-tale signs all too well.   
  
“He’s a butthead,” Leslie mutters involuntarily as she shoves clothes into her suitcase.    
  
“Alright. We’ll leave in a half hour.” As soon as Ron turns to leave, his phone rings. He doesn’t speak for several seconds after answering. Leslie isn’t paying attention to his conversation until she hears him swear violently.   
  
“Change of plans. A bridge has collapsed; we’ve been asked to stay until further notice.” Maybe Leslie will get the chance to talk to Ben this evening after all.   
  


* * *

 

It took Ben longer than he expected to gather all his things together; he spent a lot of time making lists of what things he doesn’t really need to take, and whether he should leave notes for key people such as Ann and Chris. The inward debate in his mind has meant that Ben doesn’t actually leave the house until 5pm, at which point he really has to hurry if he wants to avoid detection by the National Guard. Ben has already turned his phone off as he starts on his journey, and he’s quick to turn the radio off as soon as he hears Perd Hapley’s voice. He doesn’t notice that the little girl’s hair ribbon from earlier today has blown off and attached itself to his car antennae.     
  
  
“ _The bridge, which lies between Pawnee and Eagleton, is thought to have collapsed at around 2:30pm this afternoon. Corporal Vincent Marks of the National Guard is thought to have been on the bridge at the time of the collapse. His truck was found under amongst the rubble of the bridge. Unfortunately, he did not survive the fall. It is yet unclear what caused the collapse; but Eagleton police, the first responders to the scene, were said to be quick in removing pieces of evidence to be examined. They did not issue a statement other than to say it’s part of an on-going investigation. Meanwhile, Pawnee police are asking people to come forward with any information about a young girl who was found by Corporal Marks earlier this morning. Is Pawnee falling further into disarray? Why is it exactly that things are falling apart, literally? Who will shoulder the blame? Can the Indiana auditors save the town? These are things that we will have to wait, in order to see. I’m Perd Hapley.”_


	12. Chapter 12

_This is not my life_. It can’t be, Leslie thinks to herself. Her life consists of enthusiastically poring over sales reports in a run-down motel room as she reminds herself she’s doing the right thing even though many disagree and try to subvert her attempts to make cities better. The cities change, but neither the attitudes nor the routines change in her line of work. It comes with the territory, and Leslie is used to it. She loves her job. This is the life she has chosen for herself.

 

Except.

 

There have been exceptions to the kind of experiences she usually encounters in her job. Eagleton was creepily welcoming and accepting of everything that she and Ron had to suggest (not that it was much, their books were _immaculate_ ) (she hates that their books were immaculate. It was a totally boring trip and they were _weird_ ) (and Leslie completely refutes the notion that she deserved her reprimand for writing it in her report). Pawnee on the other hand, seemed more like a town that would follow the usual tug-of-war with her and Ron and the town’s officials and the citizens. She’s used to that.

 

What she’s not used to, however, is watching hatred being flung in multiple directions – except hers. It’s completely baffling, and much harder to get a handle on. At least if people are directing it at her and Ron, she can try to catch it and turn it into something constructive and positive. But in Pawnee, it’s someone else who is the scapegoat. Instead of a simple auditor, Leslie has adopted the role of peacekeeper. But there’s no peace in Pawnee; it’s falling to pieces faster each day.

 

Whether it’s the events of the day, the mammoth task in front of her, or even just the fight with Mark, one thing is clear – Leslie Knope is feeling downright miserable. For once, because it’s Pawnee, she wants to break her normal conventions and do something different.

 

So, instead of maintaining a friendly but professional distance between herself and those she meets in the towns she passes through, Leslie is picking up the phone and calling a friend.

 

“Ann, I need tequila,” she says meekly without any introductions or formalities and thank God for Ann Perkins ( _that exquisitely caring angelfish_ ). Ann doesn’t ask for any explanation; with a wonderfully determined and reassuring voice tells Leslie to meet her in a half hour at a place called the Snakehole Lounge.

 

Ann has already scouted the best possible table fit for their purpose. Leslie notices it’s in a perfect little corner that is close to the bar but also reasonably out of the way. Leslie doesn’t want to risk many people see her drunk, or even worse, crying, which she feels on the verge of.

 

When she sees that Ann has also ordered the first round of tequila shots, her second fear is realised when Leslie bursts into tears over Ann’s kindness. Even this doesn’t faze Ann, who pushes the tequila shot in Leslie’s direction. When Leslie takes the first shot, Ann immediately follows suit and gives Leslie’s hand a comforting squeeze.

 

“Bad day, huh?” Ann asks kindly. Leslie settles in next to Ann, staring with blurry eyes at her shot glass. She already feels a little better. If her new life has more of this, then maybe Leslie will be fine after all.

 

* * *

 

[ _TRANSCRIPT CONTINUES]_ **  
  
The Douche: ** Welcome back to Crazy Ira and the Douche! Having a terrible day? Bet it ain’t as bad as that of Corporal Vincent Marks, who was caught in that cray-zee bridge collapse this afternoon just outside of town.   
  
[‘ _Star-Spangled Banner’ plays in a slow, mournful pace]  
  
_**The Douche:** Crazy Ira now owes me fifty bucks, because he thought that the first casualty would be someone else.  
  
[ _Sound of cash register opening] [“It’s a rich man’s world!”]  
  
_**The Douche** : That’s right, he bet me that our favourite guest to mock would be the first to fall – you guessed it – Benjy the Baby!  
  
[ _baby crying sounds in background_ ]   
  
**Crazy Ira:** It’s kinda weird that we haven’t heard from him today, he’s _great_ at ruining damage control. I was looking forward to hearing him make this his fault.   
  
**The Douche** : Pfft. It’s probably his naptime. What a baby!  
  
_[‘Rock-a-Bye Baby’ tinkles softly]_

 **Crazy Ira:** Even Benjy the Buffoon isn’t dumb enough to take the thunder away from the bridge collapse, in light of what happened yesterday. He probably doesn’t want people thinking he had anything to do with it!  
  
**The Douche:** Which is _exactly_ what a guilty man would do. He was born in Eagleton, after all…  
  
[ _Loud explosion noises] [‘The X-Files’ theme plays]_ **  
  
Crazy Ira: ** Word is the Corporal was pretty crushed to have to work that shift. I’m sure it won’t be water under the bridge for his family!   
  
[ _BAH-DUM-CH!]_  
  
**The Douche:** Whoa, man, not cool, a guy is dead.   
  
[ _long pause_ ]

 **Crazy Ira** : ( _contritely)_ Sorry, dude.   
  
[ _another pause_ ]  
  
**The Douche:** Nah, man, I’m just joshing you!

[ _Crazy Ira and the Douche laugh and share high fives]  
  
_**The Douche** : You shoulda seen your face! _Classic!_

* * *

 

Okay. Ben didn’t skip town _right_ away. Sure, he left his house at 5pm, but he didn’t make for the roads beyond Pawnee. He took a little detour to the one place that he explicitly should be avoiding.   
  
Ben figured that if he’s going to leave, he should make sure that everything is in order for those he’s leaving behind. It got away from a little though – instead of straightening a few things on his desk and grabbing a few essentials, he ended up spending more than an hour tidying the whole office. And the printer needed some more toner, and he knows that it’s one of April’s most hated tasks to change it. Plus, while he was there, he thought he may as well mail those letters that someone nameless ( _Tom_ ) had carefully moved to Jerry’s desk as a way of passing on the responsibility.    
  
  
And now that he has done all these things, he can be free. A clean office, a full tank of gas and the long road ahead makes for a fresh start. Maybe a little too fresh for Ben Wyatt. But not too fresh for Logan Galloway, the alter ego that Ben improvised to help him deal with the very real fact that he is running away. But that’s cool. Logan Galloway doesn’t care. It’s okay that Ben’s nearly breaching the speed limits as he gets the hell out of Dodge because tonight, he’s not the universally loathed scapegoat from Pawnee, Indiana. No, tonight, he’s Logan Galloway, and the story of Ben Wyatt is insignificant.   
  
_This is not my life._  
  
He thinks this to himself as he keeps the radio away from news and finds a station that plays just music. It’s currently playing a loud rap song that Ben can’t _quite_ bop along to at the proper beat, but it’ll do. Anything to get ‘London Bridge is Falling Down’ out of his head.

 

* * *

 

Janet Snakehole has half the room under her spell. With a Manhattan in one hand and a cigarette holder in the other, her storytelling is entrancing about twelve people who surround her at a booth in the Snakehole Lounge. Named after her marvellous legacy of course, and not the other way round. There’s little much else she can do right now, anyway; Bert Macklin is standing at guard after having ‘captured’ her earlier that afternoon. They agreed on a compromise – he can take her into custody, but only after one last opportunity to relish the sweet vermouth taste on her lips. She doesn’t particularly want to run, either – watching this many people hang off her every word, including that of the usually staunch FBI agent is far more titillating than slinking off into the night.    
  
The only person who is unimpressed by her tales is Tom Haverford, but the man is a commoner and should be ignored. He doesn’t comprehend the gravity of what he nearly saw earlier in the day, and she shan’t waste her time trying to make a simple man understand.    
  
“I’m telling you, darlings, there’s a reason why they keep those fences up in our parks, and it’s not what you might expect.”

* * *

 

 _This is not my life._ The thought flashes through Ben’s mind again as he nurses a dingy bottle of beer. His first instinct is to push the thought from his head, but he realises that this is actually something to be embraced. He’s living someone else’s life, and the thought is unbelievably freeing. If even for a moment, he lets himself believe that he’s not Ben Wyatt, then the world opens itself up to him. The possibilities are endless.   
  
Starting with that packet of cigarettes that Ben purchased just after he crossed the Indiana border. Ben’s been sitting at the bar with an unlit cigarette between his middle and forefinger for nearly half an hour. It’s been five years since Ben Wyatt last smoked, and he’s never been so close to touching one again. But if tonight he’s not actually Ben Wyatt, then does it really count?   
  
“You need a lighter, hon?” The bartender, a scraggly-haired woman called Wanda, nods to his right hand. He glances up at her in surprise, and his alter ego smiles at her offer.   
  
“Thank you.” Wanda wipes a grimy hand on her apron before fishing a lighter from her skirt and handing it to Ben.   
  
“Enjoy it, sweetheart.” _  
  
_ “Where’re you from?” the man to Ben’s left has a tatty leather jacket and a gruff voice, but he seems like a talkative man. Too curious, in fact. Ben has spent the last ten minutes listening to him explain the ins and outs of every single person that he knows. The less he knows about Ben, the better.   
  
“Out of town,” Ben answers cryptically. He doesn’t trust himself to actually lie, because he knows that the risk of him stuttering is extremely high.   
  
“I hear you,” the man mumbles, swivelling back in his seat to face the television on the wall. Ben feels a pang of guilt for being so shut-off, but he reminds himself that it is completely necessary.   
  
“Indiana’s getting crazier day after day,” Wanda says, shaking her head at the TV. Ben has deliberately positioned himself away from the TV so he can keep his promise to Ann. Besides, Logan Galloway doesn’t care about petty things such as current events.   
  
“What’s happening now?” Ben closes his eyes, thinking that he is about to be found out. His precautions may prove fruitless after all.   
  
“Those folks in Indianapolis can’t keep a control on the smaller towns. You’ve got all sorts of crazy shit happening across the state, getting worse and worse each day, and not even the National Guard is enough to hold it together.” Wanda has no idea that she has just uttered the understatement of the century, but Ben simply nods in understanding.  
  
“You hear about that soldier that died in the accident today?” the man chimes in to Wanda.   
  
“Sure did. They’re saying it might have been intentional.” Ben knows nothing about a murder, at least not in Pawnee, and he relaxes a little. Maybe it’s actually possible that there are other places in Indiana that are dysfunctional. In an alternate universe, at least.   
  
“You ever been to Indiana, Logan?” There’s a long silence before Ben realises that the man is talking to him.   _That’s YOUR name, idiot._  
  
“Yeah, a few times,” Ben replies, taking a drag from the cigarette. It takes every single ounce of his willpower not to cough with surprise as his throat burns. _Motherfucker!_ Truth be told, when Ben last smoked five years ago, it was just to be polite when schmoozing with a visiting businessman. Ben had vowed never to repeat the experience in his lifetime. On the plus side, the scorching sensation is currently winning out over any dreary thoughts he might be having.

 _But this is not my life._ With that in mind, he exhales slowly and feels a little calmer. Maybe in a few minutes he’ll be courageous (stupid) enough to have another drag.

******

It might just be because he’s getting drunker, but after another hour, he’s finding that the cigarette is easier to work with as the night goes on. Ben was expecting to feel panic and concern over having abandoned everything without notice, but he’s finding it to be pretty nice. Maybe this really could be his new life.   
  
Ben doesn’t remember when he turned his phone back on, but it starts ringing and he pulls it from his pocket. Instantly, his heart rate ratchets up several notches.   _Ann Perkins._ It’s incredibly tempting to just ignore it, but the voice of reason inside him tells him that if he ignores the call, she’ll be more suspicious to find out what he’s up to. Which is the last thing he needs.  Best call is to answer and pretend that everything’s fine.   
  
  
"Ben!! Leslie and I are having tequila shots, you should come join us!" There are cheers and whoops in the background; the bar that Ann is in sounds thriving and busy - a far cry from the hovel that Ben is sitting in. In fact, Ben thinks that he can hear some familiar voices in the background.   
  
"Nah, you guys sound like you're having enough fun without me." He’s picturing them in the Snakehole Lounge, seated at a table towards the back that’s not totally out of the way, but gives them a view of the entire bar. Whenever Ann is deciding that she’s eschewing men, she’ll head straight to that back table. Other nights, he knows she’ll sit at the bar, but as she’s with a betrothed Leslie, Ben doubts that Ann will choose that option.     
  
"Don't tell me you're just sitting around at home in the dark," Ann says disapprovingly, slurring her words a little. She knows him too well.

 

“Hey, it’s not THAT dark,” Ben says with a grin. He can barely see the bottle in front of him, but that’s more from the cigarette smoke than poor lighting.

“Haha. Seriously, you shouldn’t be alone. Come have some fun. You deserve it.”   
  
"Ann. I’m fine, I’m not alone,” he’s about to elaborate, but Ben’s doing so well with giving vague half-answers that he decides to keep it up. People tend to be very good at filling in their own perceptions of what happens in his life.   
  
“ _Oooooooh!_ You didn’t tell me you had a _date!”_  
  
“A date?!” A voice yells excitedly in the background and suddenly a very drunk Leslie Knope is talking a mile a minute into Ben’s ear.

“Ben, that’s so great! You should bring her along to meet us! Ann and I were thinking we should go on picnics and drink sangria and then – oh my God -  we could all go _roller-blading! Ann!_ We should go roller-blading!” Leslie yells back at Ann. Her enthusiasm is contagious, and he starts to ponder how nice that all sounds – forgetting that he’s currently on the lam.   
  
Ben’s leaning into his phone with the dopiest grin on his face listening to Leslie babble excitedly to Ann about roller-blading plans when she brings her attention back to him.   
  
“Ben! Question! Have you talked to Ron at all today? I can’t reach him.”  _Ron Swanson?_ Ben doesn’t have a clue. He scans the bar out of habit anyway.

“Sorry, I don’t know where Ron is,” except for the fact that Ron is sitting across the bar from him, half shrouded in shadow.  
  
He jerks his head back when he realises what he has just seen. Ron?! But that can’t be possible! Oh God. Oh God, oh God, he’s busted.   
  
“Ben?” Leslie sounds worried for the first time.  
  
“Uh, I’ve got to go,” Ben replies. He quickly downs his drink and stubs out the barely touched cigarette. Clumsily, he grabs his keys from his pocket and nearly trips over the bar stool on the way to the door.   
  
_Oh, fuck._ It dawns on Ben how much he’s had to drink. He’s in no fit state to go anywhere. Logan Galloway would probably jump in the car without a second’s thought. His arm twitches as he considers the possibility. _No._ He can’t. Plowing head first into a power pole isn’t his chosen way to go. And the possibility of hurting other people is the last thing he wants. It would cement his legacy as Ben Wyatt, the World’s Worst. He briefly wonders why no one has ever used his _last_ name when giving him unsavoury nicknames. It would sound so much better than ‘Benjy Bummer’. Classier at least.  
  
  
Fearfully, he glances over his shoulder. Ron has already seen him, but if he can figure out a way to leave as soon as possible, he might be okay. Ron is nowhere to be seen when he. Ben’s heart rate slows; he hadn’t even noticed that it was racing. Maybe he was just seeing things and feeling guilty about running away…he can still picture clearly the moustache and his eyes glistening in the soft light of the bar – but then, Ben’s capable of conjuring some pretty vivid scenarios in his dreams when he wants to, so imagining a man sitting in a bar is hardly extraordinary.   
  
He steps back to the bar, inwardly pleased with his decision not to drive anywhere, and approaches Wanda.   
  
“Is there anywhere nearby where I can stay the night?” He’s ready for this day to end. Even alter egos need sleep. 

 

* * *

 

 

“Eagleton wants to take over the investigation into the bridge collapse. They’re refusing to cooperate with us until we have a functioning government.” It has been more than 24 hours since Chris Traeger last smiled, and the thought is troubling. Eagleton’s requirements are reasonable, but will likely prove impossible to achieve immediately. Especially given the fact that what Eagleton would consider to be ‘functioning’ is something that Pawnee has literally never been close to fulfilling.   
  
Everyone tends to feel better after a good night’s sleep and a five mile run (in Chris’ case), but even that isn’t working this morning. Instead of his usual chirpy and optimistic self, he feels - he doesn’t even want to _think_ the word -  he’s feeling _cranky._ Once again, he’s in a meeting with the ‘essential’ staff of City Hall. As much as he values the reasoning behind having such a small task force to collaborate and put the town back on its feet, Chris would politely disagree with the some of the staff members chosen to be present.   
  
The moment of silence they held for Corporal Vincent Marks was one that Chris also took the opportunity to dwell on the fate of Ben. The pressure resting on the Parks department is increasing exponentially each day, and Chris knows that Ben’s absence will hurt them in the long term. And in the short term – he misses his friend’s company, and is worried about him.   
  
But such thoughts will do no good to the situation at hand. Instead of dwelling on what has already happened and all the negatives, they’ll be better off looking forward and trying to fix what they can.   
  
“If we let Eagleton take control here, it’s one step from that to control over the rest of the town. We need to work something out before it’s too late. But we need to stop squabbling, and actually work together. I have faith that everyone here is more than capable of achieving this. We are a talented group of people, in a town that we love. I know that it is possible.” Chris truly believes this.   
  
Everyone present in the room is remarkably lifeless today. Chris’ pep talk does little to stir the group into motivation. Leslie Knope is looking remarkably tired, and almost a bit grey. Even Tammy instead of her usual cackling is more subdued. The consequences of all the in-fighting is starting to dawn on the City Hall staff, and they’re realising exactly what a messy situation they’re in.   
  
The minute of silence is turning into a quarter hour of silence as they seemingly ignore Chris’ uplifting words. Some members of the task force are asleep, others are staring blankly into space. There’s no Major Gunderson, nor any National Guard representatives this morning. Perhaps their presence helps encourage the others into attempting to be productive.   
  
“Chris, we can’t. We need their help. It only has to be temporary, but if we want to restore services and calm the town down, we need to do _something_ more than just listen to one of your pep talks.” Kristen isn’t helping Chris’ mood.   
  
“Well, what would you suggest?” It’s the snippiest he’s ever been in literally his entire life, but his patience is wearing thin and he has very little sympathy for the woman who is almost single-handedly trying to destroy his livelihood.   
  
“Eagleton _wants_ to work together and help us out, so they suggested that we borrow a few of their staffers, free of charge, to help Pawnee get back on its feet. They’ve even got a group of city planners they want to bring in from Indianapolis who will be our main point of contact between us and Eagleton’s staff.”   
  
“What kind of city planners?” Leslie speaks for the first time that morning. The volume of her own voice makes her cringe, and she winces for a few seconds. Chris pours her a cup of water and passes it to her.   
  
“All kinds. You and Ron already have the budget and administration aspects covered, but we have landscapers, designers, artists, and business people. Even a couple of architects.” Chris hates to admit it, but they might have to accept this. Better to have neutral people from Indianapolis than having Eagleton staff poking into every single aspect of their city. It’ll be easier to convince _them_ that Pawnee can manage on its own than hearing it from the biased mouths of Eagleton citizens.   
  
Leslie isn’t so enamoured at the idea. At the mention of architects, she baulks and stands up quickly from the table.  
  
“Excuse me, I have to go throw up.” Chris knows that Ben is likely to have a similar reaction to all of this. But as his friend, and his boss, it is Chris’ responsibility to keep Ben informed. Ben is likely to have ideas for how to handle this new sequence of events. He literally always does.   
  
  
The thought of visiting Ben and getting his opinion dissipates Chris’ crankiness a little. If he brings Leslie along, then she might be cheered up as well. Plus, the more brilliant minds in one room, the better. Maybe he can even bring the rest of the department along! Ben will absolutely love that.  Chris finally cracks a smile, and nods at Kristen.  
  
“I think that sounds like an excellent idea. If we can get the city up and running again, I am all for it.” He knows that it will turn out to be the best afternoon in a very long time.

 

Today, Chris knows nothing. Not even about the people sitting around him.  _Especially_ not about those around him. 


	13. Chapter 13

Standing huddled under umbrellas as people speak in hushed tones isn’t Leslie’s favourite way to conduct a meeting. It’s too informal; almost a bit suspicious. The people themselves are dressed rather formally. Admittedly, it is a memorial service, so it is to be expected. But even so, the sea of figures dressed in black as they whisper furtively to each other puts Leslie on edge. There’s no agenda, no binders, no mission statements, no meeting minutes. Nothing to ensure that the meeting stays on track, or even to suggest that it exists in the first place.  In short, an auditor’s worst nightmare.

 

However, it’s important that Leslie remembers that different people work in different ways. Maybe talking on the phone about work in the middle of a funeral is how some people deal with their grief. Who is Leslie to judge? Besides (and Leslie _hates_ to have to admit this), more has been achieved in getting Pawnee on the right track in the last half hour than in the whole time that she and Ron have been there.

 

It could be that people want to distract themselves from the tragedy that has befallen their town. Maybe they don’t want for Corporal Marks to have died in vain. Leslie refuses to allow that to happen. Even if she personally has to avenge his death, she will make sure that the National Guards' efforts are worth it. Maybe she'll try to pull strings to expedite the inquiry into his death.

 

“But Mark Brendanawicz is a fixer. We’ll be in brilliant hands,” Kristen’s arguing with persons unknown, but it’s probably bureaucrats back in Indianapolis. They’re the ones signing off on the team to join them in Pawnee. Leslie could probably muster a little more enthusiasm to the possibility of spending more time with her fiancé, but the circumstances aren’t exactly ideal. She doesn’t want to see him until she has something complete and tangible to show him that her time in Pawnee won’t be wasted. As it is, all they have is a negative balance sheet, a collapsed bridge and a dead man. And a city in lockdown.  
  
_No!_ That's not all! They have…well, they have a challenge. That doesn't _have_ to be a bad thing. And soon, they will have an expert team dedicated to pulling it off. The last thing Leslie wants is to stop people who genuinely want to help. It's in everyone's best interests to have a functioning Pawnee, and she shouldn't let her pride get in the way. Even when she's extremely suspicious of the motives of some of the parties offering help.

 

Eagleton took no time in ‘donating’ resources to keep Pawnee ticking over until a more permanent solution could be established. As well as the numerous National Guard personnel present at this memorial, there are security staff from Eagleton’s publicly-owned firm. They are spread amongst the crowd, wearing all black and dark glasses.  It’s a little difficult to discern them from the mourners, apart from the slightly ominous vibe they radiate. 

 

Andy Dwyer isn’t satisfied with Eagleton’s provisions for their safety. He has donned his own black glasses as a form of “counter-security” to the figures in black. It’s unnecessary, but Leslie finds it oddly comforting as he stands behind her keeping a watchful eye on the service. April is also being extra attentive to her surroundings, whispering in Andy’s ear and pointing at people once in a while.

 

Aside from the reinforced security presence, there’s a strange atmosphere at the memorial service. Despite the rain, the turnout is unprecedented. Since the shutdown, the level of civic activity is so low that many people are present just to check the town still exists. The bridge collapse seems to have scared the town into submission for the time being. People are timid, yet curious.  No-one is daring to cause any havoc today. The assorted men and women in uniform are a likely deterrent of bad behaviour.

 

“ _Good._ That’s what I like to hear.” The end of Kristen’s conversation coincides with the end of the memorial service. A few people turn and glare at her, but she's already stepped away, commencing several new conversations with various Eagleton representatives and her own team. Leslie recognises a few from her visit, and does her very best to avoid eye contact. The less actual coordination she has to do between Eagleton and Pawnee, the better.

 

The staff of the Parks and Recreation department have all agreed to meet back at their office for an informal debrief on what’s been going on. Everyone else in City Hall seems to be content to stay away until they are forced back to work, but Chris thinks it's important that his department stays on top of things during the shutdown. There are varying degrees of enthusiasm for this proposed meeting, but to their credit, Leslie finds herself surrounded by the begrudging members of their department.  
  
"Where's Moustache Man?" Donna asks, noting the absence of Ron.

 

“Oh, they wanted him back in Indianapolis. He’s going to oversee the extra staff they send our way.” Leslie wishes that Ron were here instead of her incoming fiancé, but then she reminds herself that this is an opportunity for them to work together and to show him how important her work is.

Ann is also with them, eager to help in any way she can. As Ben's best off laying low, Ann is a wonderful substitute to fill in. Her presence already makes Leslie feel more positive about their next steps to help Pawnee. Chris is the last of them to arrive, having been talking briefly with Major Gunderson and (much to Leslie's chagrin) Kristen. He cheerfully greets the group, delighted to have everyone together. But when Ann’s beautiful face drops suddenly, Leslie knows it’s not because Ann is disappointed by Chris’ company.

 

“Did you just get back?” Ann asks a question that she seems to already know the answer to.  
 

“Get back from where?” Chris looks utterly perplexed at her query.

 

“Ben said – that you guys were going on a hike.” Even as she says the words she realises how ridiculous they sound. Ben, hiking? The man who almost completely abhors the outdoors?  
 

“Well, it’s the first I heard. When did he say that?”

“Three days ago,” Ann says in a low voice before her voice catches in her throat “- oh, _God!_ ” She takes off for the car park without another word. It takes a few seconds for Leslie to realise that something is so very wrong, but she starts running after Ann (with great difficulty, the woman is as swift as she is beautiful).  
  
"Let's go!" Chris chirps, beckoning the Parks and Rec department to accompany him as he follows suit and sprints towards the car park. Jerry is the only one to oblige, but his attempts to run are about as slow as the others' walking pace.

 

“Ann! _Ann!_ What’s wrong?” Leslie can barely speak when she reaches Ann's car. She can't tell whether it's because she's extremely worried, or just hopelessly unfit. Her zig-zagging route throughout all the mourners seemed not to have been the most efficient route to the car, as everyone else reaches the car at a walking pace moments after.  
 

“Ben hasn’t been answering his phone or anything since we last spoke to him. I have to go see if he's okay!" _Oh, no._ This is bad, so very, truly bad. Leslie tries to be optimistic at the best of times, but she can't help and give Chris a look of horror. He drops his cheerful demeanour and adopts a very serious, almost reassuring expression. For the second time, he turns to his employees.  
  
"Let's go." This time, no protesting faces are made. Everyone falls into line immediately.  
  
"I'll take these guys," Donna says, gesturing to Andy, April, Tom and Jerry. Chris, who jogged to the service, offers to accompany Leslie and Ann. The journey is silent as they make their way to Ben's house. No-one knows what to expect, but judging how white Ann's knuckles are as she grips the steering wheel, she's expecting the worst.  
  
When they finally arrive at Ben's house, Ann takes a few moments before opening the car door.  
  
"Do you want us to go in and check for you?" Chris's voice is very gentle. Leslie doesn't know how the man can stay so calm in the situation, but she finds it comforting.  
  
"No, I better do this." Ann swallows before stepping out of the car, Leslie and Chris in tow. Donna's car pulls up behind Ann's, and they keep an eye on the three walking towards the house, awaiting further instructions. Ann pulls out her key and tries her hardest not to let her hand shake as she unlocks the door.  
  
The house is tidy, and Leslie can't see any sign of a struggle, but it takes less than ten seconds for Ann to know that something has happened.  
  
"He's gone."  


* * *

 

The debriefing meeting at City Hall has turned into a Find Ben Wyatt Committee (the name penned by Leslie) at his residence. Almost everyone is seated in the living room except for an anxious Ann, a sympathetic Leslie and a less than concerned police officer. He seems a bit irritated to have been summoned on a job during the city shutdown, despite his essential role.  
 

“When did you last speak to Ben Wyatt?” The officer asks in a monotonous tone.

 

“I _told_ you already, three days ago!” She can't stop pacing the room. Leslie paces behind her to make her feel more at ease. This question has been asked of them approximately five times already as the officer forgets to note down the answers to his questions.  
 

“No need to raise your voice, ma’am. Did he have any enemies?”

 

“Are you _kidding_ me?!” Last night the local poetry club picked a poem someone had written and submitted it to the morning newspaper. Ann shoves it in the police officer’s face to emphasise her point.

 

_‘Benjy Bummer ruined the summer_

_And made all of the children cry._

_By melting the snow he told everyone no_

_And Pawnee wanted to know why._

_He steals everyone’s fun_

_Probably chew all your gum_

_Leaving you with none to spare_

_So you better watch your back_

_Because the guy's a hack_

_He’ll crush your dreams without a care_.’

 

The officer gives a hearty chuckle before he is met with a death stare. He clears his throat and regains his composure by way of a stern look in Ann's direction, as if it were her fault that the poem was so entertaining. Leslie has to admit, in spite of the ghoulish subject matter (the demonisation of Ben Wyatt, of course), the poem is rather catchy.  
 

“Just answer the question, ma’am.”

 

“A lot of people are mad with him. You could probably list most of Pawnee as suspects.” The officer pauses before writing down ' _TBQ: EVERYONE'._

 

“And have you tried calling him?” Chris steps in to answer before Ann ends up throttling the man.

 

“No-one’s heard from him in three days. We’ve tried everything we can think of.” The officer takes this seriously, nodding and writing it down. Leslie is certain that he's already written ' _missing for 3 days'_ at least four times in his notebook, but then again she's not a police officer. Perhaps this is part of their protocol. It is important to be thorough, after all.  
 

“Is he on any medication?”

 

Ann shakes her head wordlessly.  
  
"What about yourself?"  
  
This time, Chris has to physically restrain Ann before she gets herself arrested.

 

* * *

 

“He’s probably buried in that park,” April says absent-mindedly. They're back at the Parks and Recreation department, minus Ann and Leslie who are down at the police station. The police officer took all of ten minutes to review his notes and conclude "Well, it sure looks like he's missing." Little else was offered except that the assurance that he would file the report and his supervisor would get back to them as soon as possible. Given the budgetary crisis, this is little in the way of comfort.

 

Naturally, everyone has plenty of theories about what could have happened. Given the circumstances, few of them are pleasant. But Donna doesn't seem bothered by speculation.

 

“Ben was here,” she says confidently. Everyone looks to her in surprise.

 

“How can you tell? The office is so tidy.”

 

“Exactly.” Donna paces the room deliberately before setting herself down at her desk. Most of her attention is on the coffee she’s stirring, but she when she looks up to everyone staring at her intently, she simply raises her eyebrows. They can fill in the gaps for themselves.

 

“Yeah, it’s never this clean,” April agrees, going over to her desk and tipping a container of pens onto the floor for good measure. They scatter across the room, some rolling under the filing cabinet and across to the door to Chris' office.  
 

“April,” Chris admonishes.

“What? I’m just putting things back to how they were.”

 

“The office is usually a mess, and whenever Ben wants us to clean it up, he’ll tell us. Again, and again, and again. And we haven’t had one of his lectures since Leslie and Ron came to town. He’s been too busy to worry about the state of the office. And now we come back, only to find it’s spick and span. You do the math.”  
  
Bert Macklin is quick to chime in. "Two plus two is four. Two plus three _days,_ that Ben has been gone, and then you have five days. Therefore he has five days to live." He nods assertively at April, who kisses him proudly. Chris wants to quash the assertion that Ben is in any mortal danger, but the only evidence they have is the lack of Ben and a tidy office. It could be a crime scene! They could _all_ be in danger!  
  
"I think we better call the police over here and begin a search right away."

 

* * *

 

This is fine. This is good, even. Ben can do this. This a life that he’s almost enjoying, being on the lam. The fake identity he's slowly easing into, and it has given him some confidence - and even a little bit of peace. But not too much. This is the most freedom he's ever had, and even though it's exhilarating, it's also terrifying. Complete freedom has never quite gelled with Ben. He tends to achieve more when there’s a level of pressure weighing down on him. Now that the world is in front of him, Ben is quickly realising that he doesn't have a clue what the hell it is he wants to do with it.  The part of Ben that longs for the rigidity and structure that his job in Pawnee has provided is entrenched in his psyche, and his workaholic addiction is proving hard to combat.  
  
The minute the morning sun started peeping through his curtain, he found himself itching to check his emails and iron his shirt for the workday ahead. It's been a bit of trouble trying to remind himself that he is on - well, he'll call it an extended holiday - and that there is _no need_ to iron his shirt.  The craving subsided eventually, and he was able to settle back into bed and even fall back asleep. Even if only for half an hour. Ben has never liked sleeping in. These past few days out of state haven't changed this.

 

It’s when lunchtime grows nearer that Ben always starts to get more anxious. The first night he was away, he was able to ward Ann’s questioning off by a lie that miraculously turned out to be true – but that was partially aided by her and Leslie’s relative lack of sobriety. Now, in the light of day, Ann will be back to her perceptive self. Ben won’t be able to fib about his whereabouts, nor will he be able to prevent a situation in which Ann will want to meet up for their usual lunch meeting. His lie about the hike gave him a couple of days head start, but it's going to wear off. In tough times, even when they’re both extremely busy, they’ll make the time to see each other. That might be the real reason why he's been unable to sleep. Ben hates the thought of lying to his closest friend.  
 

Maybe he can bank on Leslie providing a distraction - they seem to get along. If anyone can fill a best friend void, he has no doubt that Leslie Knope is the person for the job. She's the first state employee that he's come across who is so genuine and positive about the work she does. He trusts that even tough decisions will be made with the utmost care.

 

God, he needs to stop thinking about Pawnee and everyone in it, and get used to a life in Tennessee. Endless opportunities await him, and he can't be bogged down by a town that has essentially exiled him. Time to properly start his new life. Without the baggage and the hatred that he's hopefully left behind.  
  
But wherever you go, there you are. Even with a new pseudonym, it's still the same Benjy Bummer sitting in that motel room. He hasn't _really_ changed, not yet. Plenty of mistakes are still to be made in his life.

His mistake that day was turning on the television.

 

' _SEARCH INTENSIFIES FOR MISSING INDIANA_ _CIVIL SERVANT'_ Ben can't believe the words he sees scrolling across the screen. Accompanied by his most hated Pawnee Town Hall ID picture. The one in which he has his eyes half closed _._ Oh, God. Ben leans forward irritably, furrowing his brow.  
  
"The man, who is believed to have been missing since Friday, has sparked a search across the state. Police have multiple reasons to believe the disappearance is suspicious, and are issuing a $50,000 reward for any information that assists the police in their investigation." But he’s not missing. Ben’s right here. Sure, ‘here’ might not be known to many people, but he’s here nonetheless, and he’s certainly not in need of a search party. And _especially_ not a _$50,000_ reward! That's more than Ben's annual salary, for goodness sake.  
  
  
" _Close friends of Mr Wyatt are appealing for his safe return_." The faces of Chris and Ann fill the screen, and Ben's heart drops. _What has he done??_ This was a mistake. He should go back. Should he? He has to. But can he? What's he going to face when he gets back and he's fine? They'll be happy, but then they'll be furious. Even those who care about him. _Especially_ those who care about him. _Oh God, what a mess._ Ben switches off the television and sits in silence trying to think about what his next move is. But ideas are failing him this morning. It's useless.

 

Once the shock of seeing people like Ann and Chris worried for him on the television wears off, his annoyance compounds. _Surely_ they would have considered the possibility that Ben just ran away? What on earth are the police doing, wasting their funds on such a broad search (Ben knows how much these things cost) when there’s the rest of the town to be running?! Especially in this state. If anything, a well-publicised search will do little more than make citizens hate him even more than before if he returns to Pawnee and there’s no-one to arrest. Pawnee citizens are known for their bloodthirsty nature, even when it's not needed.

 

Could he call in an anonymous tip perhaps? Telling the police not to waste their time? That could work. Then again, it could make it seem like he’s already dead, and draw more attention to his location from where he makes the call. God, can’t a man run away in peace? Trust everyone not to follow his plan. Out of weariness, he switches the television back on.

 

“ _This comes days after it emerged that Pawnee is in deep financial turmoil. City Hall staff are being offered support from the Eagleton local government as the town gets through this difficult time.”_ The camera cuts to a shot of members of City Hall all gathered together – with Kristen Holt sobbing the greatest crocodile tears Ben has ever witnessed. The woman has outstanding acting skills. If Ben weren’t so disgusted, he’d almost be impressed.

 

 _Knock, knock._ A sound at his door briefly pulls his focus away from the broadcast. It’s probably Wanda alerting him to breakfast. She’s lovely if not a little too pushy. He can handle it usually, but today's a little different.

 

“Just a second, Wanda,” Ben calls out. He’s not quite ready to start facing the day as Logan Galloway just yet. The broadcast is stuck in his mind, and Pawnee’s a little hard to shake off this morning. The knocks come again, this time louder and more forceful.

 

 _Jesus Christ!_ “Alright, alright,” Ben mutters, getting up and walking to the door. When he opens it, he is met with instant darkness and the sensation of being flipped upside down.

“We’ve been looking for you, Benjy Bummer,” a voice says gleefully as they carry him down the hallway and out into the unknown.

 


End file.
